


So This Is How I'm Slipping Away

by fairygrrl45



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-con not between J2, Pre-Slash, Supernatural and J2 Bigbang Challenge 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 12:39:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2025423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairygrrl45/pseuds/fairygrrl45
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen knew in that moment, as all feeling left him...as sensation drained out of his fingertips, and left everything stiff and immovable except for his eyes, still tracing the distance for that familiar red shirt...</p><p>He knew…he would never see him again.</p><p>Jared was gone.</p><p>He was gone forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So This Is How I'm Slipping Away Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Masterpost on LJ is HERE: http://fairygrrl45.livejournal.com/48407.html  
> There you'll find more explicit/spoilery warnings and beautiful banner. Non-Con not between J2.
> 
> Please Please Please go show my artist some love at livejournal! She's amazing! : http://redrum669.livejournal.com/21728.html

# Prelude

_ The pavement was hot and rough against the soles of his feet, blinding sunlight beating down on his face, making his eyes narrow and making sweat gather at his hairline. His mouth was uncomfortably dry and his palms itched to hold onto something.  _

_ He wasn’t completely sure why he was running. All he knew was that he couldn’t stop. He had to get there. He had to find…something. _

_ The world blurred by in unrecognizable shapes and shades of grey. There was nothing here for him.  _

_ He had to get there.  _

_ It was maddening not being able to remember what it was he was searching for. It was maddening not being able to stop running despite not knowing. He was so desperate to get there, to be there, to find it. He felt seething panic grip him at the fleeting thought that he wouldn’t find it.  _

_ His mind was frantic, chaotic, every thought ephemeral, slipping away from him, nudging lightly at his consciousness before flitting away again. Everything, everything was slipping away, except- _

_ Where? There. Where?  _

_ He had to get there.  _

_ Faster and harder, he ran, but somehow he knew he was running out of time.  _

_ Whatever it was wherever....wherever there was, he had to find it quickly.  _

_ Suddenly, there was flash of red in his periphery, a burst of vibrancy in a sea of dull, lifeless monotony, and he remembered. He remembered what he was searching for. _

_ Jared. _

_ Jensen changed course, twisting violently to chase after Jared. He had to catch him or he would lose. He had to catch him before he lost him. He couldn’t lose sight of him or he wouldn’t catch him, and he had to catch him or he would lose. _

_ He chased after that spot of red in the distance, muscles straining, nearly shaking with adrenaline, lungs burning with the over-effort. _

_ “Jared!” _

_ He called out to him, but Jared must not have heard him because he didn’t stop, and he didn’t turn, he just got further and further away. _

_ Jensen didn’t understand how Jared was moving so fast. He always won when they raced each other. Of course, he was older, bigger, stronger…. _

_ It only made sense that he would win.  _

_ But no matter how hard he pushed himself, Jared was out of his reach, a bright red spot on the horizon; eventually so far way that Jensen couldn’t separate him from the setting sun. So far away that Jensen would never be able to catch up.  _

_ At that realization he stopped, heart stuttering in his chest, not slowing, but pounding quicker, more furiously against his rib cage. A dulling echo against his ear drums. _

_ Jensen knew in that moment, as all feeling left him... Sensation drained out of his fingertips, and everything became stiff and immovable except for his eyes, still tracing the distance for that familiar red shirt... _

_And he knew…he would never see him again._

_ Jared was gone. _

_ He was gone forever.  _


	2. So This Is How I'm Slipping Away Prelude

# Summer

  
  
**1993**

JENSEN

“Come on, Jen! Hurry up!”

Jared’s voice was loud and shrill in his ear, and Jensen flinched away, instinctively curling in on himself and covering his ears with sluggish, sleep-heavy arms. He felt a small hand pushing against his shoulder after he turned his back, and he tried shrugging it away roughly to no avail.

“Jenseeeeeen! I wanna go to the park! Come ooooon!”

Jared shifted tactics to sitting on his back to try to get him to move, and it was kind of working because Jared wasn’t nearly as light as he looked, and Jensen was starting to have trouble breathing.

“Ungggggnghgh,” he groaned, flailing in hopes that Jared would fall off of the bed. Instead, Jared just pulled the covers down away from his face, letting the incredibly bright sunlight streaming in through the window hit him right in the eyes, and then climbed up in front of him to poke him in the forehead.

“Oh my Goooooooooood,” Jensen whined, because there was no-one else around to hear him except for Jared, and he wouldn’t care if he sounded like a four year old. “How did you even get here, man?”

It was kind of a dumb question. There were only two ways Jared could’ve gotten to Jensen’s house, really. Someone drove him or he rode his bike. And though Jensen did want to know whether an actual adult brought Jared over, or he just decided to sneak over to his place without telling anyone, he’d actually meant to ask how Jared he got _here_ , like, into his room, onto his bed, face hanging directly over Jensen’s with a stupid pout plastered onto it.

Jared answered both questions though.

“My mama drove me. You know she doesn’t like me to bike up here. Anyway, your mama let me in on her way out.”

“I’ll kill her,” Jensen croaked, rubbing one hand across his eyes.

“She’d kick your ass.”

“Jared!”

“What? It’s true!”

Jensen twisted and turned in his sheets, knocking both the covers and Jared’s pushy, grubby hands away. He then made to start the slow and painstaking process of rolling out of bed.

“Yeah, it is kind of true,” Jensen sighed. “But don’t curse like that. Your parents already don’t like that we’re still friends. Don’t want to give them another reason to hate me.”

“They don’t hate you,” Jared claimed, frowning.

Jensen stood up lazily, yawning and stretching his arms toward the ceiling, popping his shoulders and knees in an effort to chase away the faint echoes of growing pains that liked to cling to his joints in the morning these days.

“An extreme dislike, then.”

“Okay.”

He couldn’t help the wry smile that skated across his face at the quick agreement, but he turned to punch Jared in the arm for it anyway.

“Ow!”

Jared splayed across his bed dramatically, one hand probing lightly at the opposite shoulder. Knowing Jared, it probably wasn’t even the shoulder he hit. Jensen knew it didn’t hurt.

“Such a smartass. I’ll be outta the shower in ten minutes. Try not to break all of my stuff while I’m gone, loser.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jensen heard Jared call out of the door into the hallway.

“You’d better!” he warned back, before shuffling into the bathroom and slamming the door behind him.

He still had a smile on his face as he went through his morning routine.

Jared did that for him sometimes; just made him smile for no reason.

Jensen tried not to question it much.

It wasn’t too long before Jensen was out, dressed, and being pushed toward the front door, nearly empty cereal box in hand.

“Just eat it on the way,” Jared protested when Jensen tried to complain about missing breakfast.

“There’s no milk!”

“You don’t need it.”

“I don’t have a spoon,” he whined, dragging his feet.

He was maybe purposefully trying to piss him off now, just a little, but it was funny seeing how worked up Jared got when he was trying so hard to get his way.

Did he not already know by now that Jensen would give him pretty much anything?

Jared stopped pushing at him to fold his arms across his skinny chest, scrunch up his eyebrows, and tap one converse clad foot against the grimy, threadbare carpet in front of the door.

“What, Jay? Why do you care so much about the park, anyway?” Jensen said, rolling his eyes.

“Jeffrey said he’s bringing his skates today, and plus, what if the ice-cream truck comes around early? We’ll miss it, just like yesterday!”

“Dude…we’re gonna miss it at…” Jensen checked the weird cat clock in the kitchen for the time. “…12o’clock? We’re gonna miss the ice-cream truck at twelve, Jared?”

“Well, it won’t still be around twelve when we get there if _you_ don’t move _faster_.”

He looked ready to explode. Messy, fly-away strands of chestnut brown covering most of his forehead and his ears so that all Jensen really had to focus on was his angry brows, his downturned mouth, and dimple-less red cheeks. It really was unfortunate that Jared’s angry face was more adorable than intimidating, and Jensen’s response was just unhealthy.

The stupid warmth that was spreading through his chest, and the stupid smile he had to bite down on to keep from stretching across his face…

Jensen just rolled his eyes again and said, “Fine, fine, whatever. Let’s go. I’ll be fine with my milk-less, bowless cereal.”

“Awesome!”

Jared was quick to push him one last step through the door before shutting it behind him and jumping down the steps, bony limbs flailing in his excitement. He shoved open the apartment building door with a bang.

And just like that all was well; Jared back to his overly cheery, chatty self, and Jensen sighing in fake reluctance as he trailed him down the street toward the closest neighborhood park.

…………….

When they got there the park was pretty empty. It turned out that Jeffrey had caught the summer flu that day, and didn’t, in fact, bring his skates for Jared to borrow. A girl from Jared’s class the year before, Anna, was there though. She’d brought her Pokémon cards with her, so she and Jared got into a heated battle on the blacktop. Jensen wasn’t much for card games so he sat in a swing close by trying to determine whether he should risk looking like an idiot by sitting under the jungle gym so he wouldn’t freckle, or just stay where he was.

His freckles were always so annoying. They kind of took over his entire face during the summer. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever felt so weird about them before but he worried about them now. Of course, he’d always been kind of a worrier, but not about stupid stuff like his skin, or his hair. Plus, Jared never seemed to care how he looked. Jensen watched, squinting through the hazy heat at Jared in his red spider-man t-shirt with the faded lettering, growling and galloping around that Anna girl with the short cropped blonde hair and plain green t-shirt. Jensen was just twelve, two years older than his best friend, but sometimes he felt like they were worlds apart. More often these days than ever before really.

It might’ve been because of last year when Jensen had to go to the middle school for 6th grade and leave Jared behind in elementary for a year. Jensen had _hated_ the new school without him, and missed Jared terribly, but eventually he had to get used to not having him around most of the day.

Jared sat down again, knocking his shoulder into Anna’s before quickly turning to dart over to the jungle gym and count out loud, completely missing the little girl’s blush. Anna scurried up to hide, and Jensen thought maybe Jared was just really oblivious about things like that. Maybe Jared was really oblivious to the effect he had on people.

Jensen turned his head to see a girl from his math class last year, Sally or Susan or something, sit down in the swing two away from his. He started to pump his legs with intent, instead of idly like before, letting his weight drop heavily as he swung back and making the swing set shake. He chuckled under his breath as Susan, or Samantha, or something squeaked in protest and clenched her orange painted nails into the thick, rusted chain of the swing. Girls were such scaredy cats.

“Jared,” Jensen called, digging his heels into the ground to stop as he was hit with a sudden strike of genius about how to get rid of his boredom and not think about his inevitable freckling.

“Jared, come here!”

“Just…one…minute!” Jared yelled back across the park, loudly, voice broken from labored breathing as he chased after Anna. Somehow their game of hide and seek had been reduced to a game of tag, in which Jensen could tell Anna wasn’t trying too desperately hard not to be caught.

“No, come now!”

“Don’t…be…an asshole!” The park had a few more people in it than when they first arrived and Jared’s dirty mouth drew some strange and wide-eyed stares. The lady in the kiddie part of the park with her toddler frowned in their general direction.

Jensen acted like he didn’t care, even though he could feel his face heat up in slight embarrassment at Jared’s words, and how much he actually _didn’t_ care who heard him speak like that.

Jared was just so….

Jared.

“Hurry up an’ catch her then!”

Jared did just that; lanky legs and arms pumping faster. Just fast enough to yank at the back of that green t-shirt and stop Anna’s forward momentum, tripping her up and catching her in his arms as they both fell backwards onto the unforgiving asphalt.

“Gotcha!”

“Awwww!” Anna giggled, not looking sorry at all, as she stood up and brushed off the back of her shorts, and ran over to gather up her Pokémon cards.

Jared jogged over to the swing next to Jensen and sat down.

“What’s up, Jen?”

He was still a little out of breath, his skin shining with a light sheen of sweat, his cheeks pink with exertion, sweaty bangs swept behind his ear from when he’d roughly run a quick hand through his hair to keep it out of his face as he was on the chase.

Jensen had to take a second to unstick his brain from the image, and stop focusing so hard on the way Jared’s crazy long eyelashes cast heavy shadows against his cheeks when he blinked. Why was he so…

Jesus.

Jensen swallowed thickly, ignoring the heaviness in his chest, and reminding himself that he wasn’t meant to think that boys were pretty.

“Hey, let’s swing race and then jump and see who gets the farthest.”

“Okay!”

Jared started pumping his legs vigorously and Jensen, refusing to be left behind, did the same. He nearly always won these types of games, because he was growing faster than Jared. He’d already had a growth spurt in the middle of last year, and his mom kept saying he was due for another “one of these days” because of how he kept complaining about body aches.

Jared was never discouraged, though. He always took the bait, always thought he could beat him just one time, was always so eager to show Jensen up. It wasn’t Jensen’s fault Jared couldn’t say no to a challenge.

“Hey, Jay!” he yelled across the space between them.

“Yeah?!”

“How about we make this a little more interesting?”

“What?”

“I said let’s make this a little more interesting!”

“How?”

“Loser gets the ice-cream!”

“What? How is that bad?”

“Loser gets the _both_ of us ice-cream with his allowance, and the other one doesn’t have to wait in line!”

“Oh, okay!”

“You in?”

“I’m in!”

“Okay…I think we’re high enough. Ready?”

“Ready!”

“We jump on three!”

Jared got this determined look on his face like there was no way he’d lose, no possible way. He carefully moved his arms from the back of the swing chains to the front, not stopping any of his momentum, and turned to shoot a quick look at Jensen before he started to count.

“One!”

Jensen maneuvered his arms the same way and counted, “Two!”

At the same time, they both yelled “Three!” and jumped out of their swings, suspended in the air for a split second before falling gracelessly toward the ground.

Jensen stretched himself forward as much as he could in the short second that he was up in the air and landed in a crouch, one hand against the hot asphalt. He looked to his left to see Jared right there, almost in the exact same position as he.

“Don’t move!”

Jared didn’t, and Jensen tried to eyeball it but there was no way of telling who was first. If they were in dirt or woodchips they could draw lines at the toe of their shoes to get a better estimate, but this was asphalt and there was no real way of getting that close to the mark.

“It’s a tie!” Jared said, sounding outraged.

Jensen could relate. No way they _tied_. That was not an option.

“No, no, my toe is totally in front of yours, see?” Jensen pointed to the position of his foot to show him, but Jared just scoffed.

“No way, Jensen. Just because your feet go all weird does not mean you won.”

Jared was talking about Jensen’s unfortunate, _slight_ bowlegged-ness. His toes turned a teeny bit inward as a result, which was why his foot looked like it was a bit forward, but it didn’t matter why it looked that way. It only mattered that it did. Duh.

“Yes, it does,” Jensen said, coming out of his crouch. He could hear the music of the ice-cream truck now, faint but there, which meant it’d be coming close very soon. “And if you don’t get the ice-cream, you won’t get to have any, because I’m not moving from this spot.”

He sat down heavily in his swing, leveling a smug look at Jared as he turned around and glared at him.

“Fine! But I’m getting you chocolate,” Jared said sourly, knowing Jensen hated chocolate ice-cream.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“I aaaaam!” Jared yelled over his shoulder as he started to make his way toward the edge of the park where the ice-cream man would stop the truck. People were already heading in that direction, having heard the high pitched, off key music that announced its impending arrival, just like Jensen had.

He’d been too distracted with Jared in general to notice, but it looked like a lot more people had come to the park since they’d come earlier. He hoped Jared didn’t actually have to wait in line too long. He was kind of hungry.

As soon as the truck pulled up, kids started running to get in line. Even the littler ones took it at a fairly fast waddle as their parents stayed behind and slowly made their way up the slight incline to the sidewalk. Jared was behind the truck to line up on the side with the window pretty quickly, and Jensen was positive that he’d be one of the first in line.

He may have been slower than Jensen, but he was quicker than a lot of the other kids.

Jensen tipped his head back, turning his face toward the sun and closing his eyes. Today was a good day. Nearly every day in summer was, and in two weeks he and Jared would go camping with his family, the start of a yearly tradition now that his little sister Megan was old enough to go. The Padaleckis were big on family traditions, and Jensen was kind of surprised when Jared had invited him along, because he knew how Jared’s parents felt about him. Jared just said that his parents had allowed each of the kids to bring one friend, and why would he ask anyone but Jensen? He couldn’t say no to that kind of logic, mostly because of the stupidly warm way it lit him up inside, and despite being a little nervous about sleeping in the wilderness, Jensen was sure both he and Jared would have an awesome time.

Jensen sighed and let his mind wander and flit from one vague thought to another, not touching on anything in particular for too long. His mouth was kind of dry after the swing jump and the back of his neck was starting to prickle a little from the heat. He was really looking forward to that ice-cream, cool and sweet on his tongue. He looked up in anticipation at the thought of it, expecting that by now Jared would be making his way back across the blacktop, two cones in hand. He wasn’t, though, and Jensen wondered what was taking so long. Maybe he’d ordered something super crazy?

It wasn’t unlikely. Sometimes, Jared would try things just to be able to say he’d tried it; for bragging rights alone. Jensen hoped that this time it was something that he ended up liking, because he sure didn’t feel like sharing his own.

He waited a little while longer, eyes shifting back toward the direction that Jared was meant to be coming from every two to three seconds, and watched as four, five, six kids came tumbling back to the park area, licking broad stripes across multi-colored cones.

Seriously, what was taking him so long?

Jensen stood up, frowning a bit in confusion as he started to walk toward the ice-cream truck. More and more kids (and their parents) were walking away from the truck with their treats in hand, and none of them were Jared.

Did he get distracted or something? Let some other kids in line before him? That wasn’t like him.

Jensen started to walk a little faster, scrambling up the small hill to get to the sidewalk and search behind the truck on the window side. There was one kid still in front of the ice-cream truck with a blue hat, reaching up to grab his SpongeBob pop from the man in the truck, but no one else was in sight. There were cars going up and down the street, and Jensen saw a woman and her daughter walking on the opposite side of the street with ice-cream too, but no…no Jared.

Where was Jared?

Jensen’s heartbeat started to pick up, but he told himself to calm down. He probably just missed him coming back while he was daydreaming or something. He started back down the small hill as the ice-cream truck drove away.

“You all have a good day, now!” the man in the driver’s seat called out.

He got a mixed response of “You too”, “Thank you” and “Bye, Mister ice-cream man” ’s, but it all sort of blurred together in the background for Jensen as he got closer to where he’d been sitting before, looked in a wide arc from where he was standing, and still didn’t see Jared.

Maybe he was hiding? Trying to get back at him for the swing thing.

“Okay Jared, you got me!” Jensen yelled, rolling his eyes. “You can come out with my ice-cream now, yeah? Maybe I’ll let you win next time!”

Jared didn’t come out of hiding.

“Come on, dude, I get it. You win. Now, can you please just…stop hiding?”

Again, no Jared. Some of the kids on the playground were starting to look at him a little funny, but honestly, Jensen was starting to feel like this wasn’t a joke anymore. Jared needed to show himself…now.

“Jared?” he said, starting to walk around and look behind the jungle gym, the monkey bars, the various trees, and the occasional bench.

“Jared, come on, this isn’t funny!”

Jensen’s heart kicked against his ribs. His palms were getting sweaty. What if…no. No, Jared was here, he just…got distracted by something. He saw a cool bug or he found a nickel, something.

“Jared!”

“Excuse me?” A woman that was in the kiddie area with her son called out to Jensen, and he moved closer to the fence to respond.

“Yeah?” He didn’t mean to be rude, but unless she was going to say she knew where Jared was, he really didn’t have time for-

“Are you looking for a little boy?”

Jensen sighed in relief, “Yes, have you seen him? He’s not _that_ little. He’s nearly eleven, about yea high?” Jensen said, bringing his hand up to about his chin. “He had brown hair, and a red shirt on, and-”

“Oh, wait, yeah…that skinny kid? The fast one that was in line first?”

“Yeah, did you see where he went?” Jensen asked, urgency clear in his tone.

“Uhhhhh…”

Jensen’s pulse pounded in his ears. He was pretty sure that if Jared had been here and playing a joke he’d have come out by now, just to point and laugh at seeing Jensen running around behind trees like an idiot. That meant that Jared wasn’t here, and if this lady was the last person who saw him…

“No, I saw him run to the line, but then I turned away to check on Michael when he pulled at my shorts,” the lady explained, hiking her messy-faced toddler up higher on her hip. “I’m sorry, when I looked back he was gone, and some other kid was getting waited on. I just assumed he’d gotten his ice-cream and went back to the playground.”

Yeah, Jensen had thought that too.

“Thanks, anyway,” he said, as he started to turn away.

“Hey!” she said, making him turn back toward her.

“Good luck finding him.”

She sounded sincere, but her eyes were sad, like “Good luck finding him” actually meant “Sorry you lost him” and that he wasn’t going to be easily found. Like “Good luck finding him” actually meant “You might not _ever_ find him.”

Jensen took a deep breath and closed his eyes tight enough to see shapes in the darkness behind his eyelids. He had to keep it together. He had to find Jared, and he couldn’t do that if he started creating crazy scenarios in his head about what had happened.

He let out the breath he’d been holding tight in his chest.

“Thanks,” he repeated before going around the perimeter of the park in search of Jared.

“Jareeeeed!”

“Jareeeeed!”

“Jayyyyyyyy!”

Jensen searched the entire park grounds, asking person after person if they’d seen him, giving them the most detailed description he could in the shortest amount of time. Most people had seen him run to the ice-cream truck, but no one had seen him leave.

When he ran out of park to search, he started looking around the closest streets, still calling his name.

“Jareeeed!”

“Jareeeed!”

Most of the random people walking on the street had no clue what Jensen was talking about. He even ran into the woman and girl he saw across the street when he stopped in the local gas station to ask if they’d seen him. Maybe Jared had had to go to the bathroom. The clerk in the store said he hadn’t seen him, and the woman and her daughter said they hadn’t even seen him in the ice-cream line.

It was starting to get late and Jensen was really freaking out. He couldn’t go home without Jared. He couldn’t go home without him. He _had_ to be out here somewhere. He _had_ to be. Kids didn’t just disappear, okay? People didn’t just vanish into thin air, and he could only move so quickly if he was on foot, especially if he had food in his hand, and where the hell would he even go and why? Jensen was _right there_. If he’d needed anything he could’ve come to him. If he really didn’t want to go to the ice-cream truck, Jensen would have gone instead, if he’d just come back and told him.

If he’d just come back and-

If he’d come back…from the ice-cream truck.

The ice-cream truck?

The ICE-CREAM TRUCK! Crap!!!

Crap, Crap, Crap, Crap…Oh God…

Jensen ran home as fast as he possibly could, heart pounding, hands trembling. How could he have let this happen!? Please, God, please let him be wrong.

When he got to his apartment building he had to steady his hand to get the key in the lock twice; once for the front door and once for the apartment door. Jensen saw that the kitchen light was on.

“Moooom!”

Donna Ackles came marching out of the kitchen area, nurses uniform pressed immaculately, waving wooden spoon in hand. She wore an irritated scowl and narrowed her eyes at Jensen dangerously.

“I thought I told you to be home before I got back, and if you were going to be late or something because you were over Jared’s, to call.”

A completely unintelligible noise gurgled out of Jensen’s throat at the mention of him, and he was honestly entirely incapable of holding back the tears that were pressing against the back of his eyes. They had been threatening to fall all afternoon, since the second he realized that none of this was a joke.

Jensen’s mother hadn’t stopped ranting since he’d come in the door, but Jensen heard next to none of it.

“Moo-om!” he said, voice breaking, interrupting her tirade, and when she turned to look at him he saw all of the anger on her face melt into concern.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” she said stepping closer to bracket his shoulders in her hands and look him in the eye. Jensen almost never cried, so she must’ve known it had to be something serious.

“Jared…h-he, h-he….and the video at school about…I think maybe..J-Jared…”

Donna pushed Jensen down to sit on the couch, and sat on the coffee table in front of him, hands still pressing gently on his shoulders. “Take a breath, hun. Breathe,” she instructed.

Jensen tried to do as she asked but every breath got caught in his throat half way to his lungs, because _Jared_.

“What happened?” his mother asked slowly, seriously.

“H-he, I think he got taken by the ice-cream man!”

And in any other situation ever that sentence would probably have made Jensen’s mother break out into laughter, Jensen knew, but the terror that was clawing through his chest must’ve been showing on his face because all she did was frown in confusion and tell him to start from the beginning.

Jensen wanted to rail at her to fix it, to _move_ , not ask him more questions. Jared was _gone_ and he didn’t know where he went, and telling her the whole story wasn’t going to make this make any more sense, but she needed to know what happened, he knew, because people were to going to ask her. Police were going to ask her what she knew, and _Oh God_ , this was actually happening.

Jensen went through the entire story, everything from the second he woke up to the second he came back home, and his mother’s face got more and more grim the further the story went on. When Jensen finished, hands still shaking, heart still trying to climb its way up his throat, and feeling even more emotionally rung out than when he’d run into the apartment in hysterics, his mother just dropped a quick kiss onto his forehead before picking up the phone and calling the Padalecki residence. He knew it was their house and not the police because she asked first.

“Hi Sherri, I don’t mean to worry you unless there’s cause for worry, so I just wanted to ask you really quickly if Jared has come home yet?”

Jensen didn’t even realize he was still holding out hope for that until the answer came and crushed it.

“No. No, he’s not here, either. Okay, well…I’m going give you the short version so that we can get this to the police as quickly as possible. We might not have much time.”

Time?

They didn’t really have _any_ time.

Jared wasn’t here. Jared was gone. Jared was _gone_.

“Sherri, Sherri, I understand that you’re worried, but you need listen to me so that I can call the police. Jared has gone missing. I’m going to call the police and report it first, then we’ll be over to your house and Jensen can tell you the entire story himself, alright?”

If he could get it out again. Force himself to tell Jared’s parents how he’d let his best friend get taken.

“…..I’m really sorry about this, Sher- Yes, I know, I know you don’t understand. I don’t much understand it myself. Look can you…can you put Jerry on the phone if he’s near?”

Jensen sat in numb silence as his mother repeated herself to Mr. Padalecki.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset her more than she already is, but I thought she should know before I reported it that… Jared has gone missing.”

“….Yes, Jerry, missing. I know, I don’t…Look, we’ll be over to your house to give you the entire story shortly, and I’ll give the cops your address so that they can just get all of the statements over with at once.”

“Right, I just thought you should know. Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

After she hung up Jensen’s mother hustled into the kitchen, turning off the burners and grabbing her keys. She was making her way toward the door and Jensen tried to get up and follow, but he could hardly feel his legs so he wasn’t sure he could even stand anymore.

“Look at me, Jensen,” his mom said, crouching down in front of his face.

Jensen shifted his gaze from the unseeing middle distance to his mother’s dark, worried eyes.

“I need you to be strong and keep it together…for Jared, okay? You have to tell the Padaleckis what happened, and then you have to tell the police what happened. You’ll have to tell the story over and over and over again so that it’s like they were there, and they know how to find him. In order to do that, you have to ignore it. Do you understand me, Jenny?”

Jensen nodded numbly.

“You ignore all of the horrible things you’re feeling and imagining going wrong. You shove it all away for right now. Just for right now, so that we can get through this. Okay? Can you do that? Can you be strong for Jared…huh?”

Jensen nodded again, a little more aware of what he was nodding to. Be strong for Jared. He had to stay strong for Jared. They had to find him, and in order to find him, they needed Jensen to stay strong and tell them what happened. Jared needed Jensen to stay strong. He could do that. He would do that.

Jensen swallowed back his tears, and with them, every heavy feeling that was keeping him weighted down and motionless on his living room couch. The crushing guilt and the agonizing fear, and the gnawing worry that Jared was gone forever; he pushed it all down and locked it in a tiny box inside himself.

Then he got up and followed his mother out of the door to go find his best friend.

&&&

JARED

Jared woke to darkness. His head ached, his mouth was dry, and his body felt sore and tired, like he’d run really hard, really far without any breaks or drinking any water. He had no idea where he was. The ground underneath him was hard, and smooth, and cool.

He was curled up on his side and when he tried to stretch out he realized that he couldn’t move his hands. His wrists were bound together in front of him with what felt like rope. It was rough and scratchy against his skin, too tight to wriggle out of, and too strong to break.

He realized he was naked and alone.

It took him a few minutes to remember what had happened, and even as he did he didn’t want to believe it was real.

He’d just wanted some ice cream.

He’d run faster than the other kids to get to the truck, and he’d gotten there first, had been ready to order when the man inside the truck had smiled and said;

“Hey, Jared! What’s going on?”

Jared had looked up in surprise that the man knew his name, but had looked closer and realized that he’d seen him before, duh. He was the ice cream man on _Jared’s_ street. Well, sometimes. There were two of them, one older guy with a weird mustache and a funny tattoo on his arm, and this one, Mr. Jake.

One time Mr. Jake had given him a free ice cream, for nothing! He’d just handed it to him and wouldn’t take Jared’s dollar. When Jared had asked him why, he’d said that he thought Jared was a cool kid, cooler than all of the other kids on his street, and that he deserved it. Jared wasn’t going to say no to free ice cream, so even though he’d felt a little bad for not paying when the other kids had to, he’d taken it, said thank you like his mama taught him, and skipped away with a wave and a big smile.

When Jared saw Mr. Jake today he’d been surprised but happy all the same, hopeful that he’d get another free ice cream. When Mr. Jake had told him there was actually a special for the first kid who made it to the window every time the truck stopped, he couldn’t believe his luck! Mr. Jake had told him to come around to the back for the free vanilla cone, so that the other customers wouldn’t see and get upset, so Jared had.

That was when things had gotten weird.

It had all happened so quickly, there wasn’t time to fight or even cry out for help.

He’d just rounded the side of the truck when an arm had shot out and he’d felt a shock go through his body, like that time he’d stuck scissors in the socket when he was small, but more, and not just in his hand, but everywhere.

He’d been pulled into the back of the truck and thrown on the ground, one hand covering his mouth and an arm tight around his throat.

Mr. Jake had dropped him quickly then, and he’d hit the floor of the truck hard. Then the hand had been gone, but he’d still he found it hard to yell, to SCREAM that he needed help. His limbs had felt heavy, impossible to move, like he’d been swimming through honey. His head had been buzzing, and he hadn’t been sure but he’d thought he might have peed his pants. He hadn’t done that since he was six years old. It’d made his cheeks heat in embarrassment and made him frown in even more confusion. Why…why couldn’t he move? Why couldn’t he…

He’d blearily watched Mr. Jake walk back and forth to the ice cream a couple times, figured he was serving the rest of the costumers.

He’d tried to make noise, any noise even though he couldn’t make his tongue work, but the music, that stupid off key ice cream truck jingle, was too loud, and he couldn’t even hear himself over the sound of it.

He must’ve zoned out for a time, because the next moment he’d been conscious of anything it was to the rocking movement of the ice cream truck and the sound of Mr. Jake saying,

“Perfect. Perfect. You’re so perfect. I can’t believe that it worked, Jared. I can’t believe it…”

Jared couldn’t believe it either.

Why was he here? Where was here?

What did this man want with him? Why did he take him, and when could he go home?

Please, please, he just wanted to go home.

Jared’s head hurt, and his eyes felt gritty and heavy with the tears that he wouldn’t let fall.

He decided he’d close his eyes for a minute. Just a minute.

He was so tired.

….

The next time he woke up he could hear the sounds of something moving above him, like feet shuffling, like he was in a basement, underground somewhere.

It wasn’t too long before a door above him opened, letting in dim light that he had to close his eyes against, and letting in Mr. Jake.

Mr. Jake came down the stairs that Jared hadn’t even noticed were there and smiled at him.

It was a nice smile.

It didn’t make Jared feel any better, though. He was scared, and confused, and alone, and no amount of smiles from this man would make him feel any better.

He tried to ask why he was here and all that came out was a croak and a cough. His throat was _so_ dry.

Mr. Jake sat him up against what felt like a wooden wall, and brought a straw to his lips, holding a cup that Jared hadn’t seen in his hand.

Jared didn’t make any move to drink what was in the cup. This man had taken him, somehow kept him from being able to move his body in the truck, and then he’d taken his clothes off and tied him up.

Jared didn’t know what else the man would do, and that was what had his stomach churning so horribly.

“Drink, Jared. It’s just water.”

Mr. Jake smiled again, white teeth bright in a face shrouded in shadows. It was still dark in here, even with the door cracked open.

Jared didn’t want to take anything from him, but his throat was so very dry, and Mr. Jake was still holding the cup to his lips, and kneeling, waiting in front of him.

“Go on. I promise, Jared, it’s just water. I don’t want to hurt you. Why would I hurt you? You’re perfect.”

Jared’s stomach twisted further into knots at the compliment. He wasn’t sure what made him feel so weirded out by it, but it didn’t sound like a nice thing coming from this man. Jared believed him, though, in that moment, that he wouldn’t hurt him, or at least, that he wasn’t trying to poison him, so he sipped at the straw, slowly, carefully.

The water was cool and wet, immediately soothing to his dry mouth and throat, and Jared drank more quickly, so grateful for it.

“There you go. See?” he said, stroking a piece of Jared’s hair behind his ear. “No one’s going to hurt you here. My perfect boy.”

Jared didn’t say anything back as he finished the water and leaned back against the wall. He was tired still, and it wasn’t easy to keep himself sitting upright, but he also wanted to get away from the man’s hand in his hair.

It didn’t feel right.

“I’ll be back later, alright? Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine, now. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Jared wanted to tell him that _nothing_ was fine. That he was here, he didn’t know where. (How far away from home was he?) His family didn’t know where he was. Jensen didn’t know where he was. And he was so, so scared. Everything was not fine.

But Jared knew that it probably wasn’t good for him to argue with the man. He didn’t know what he would do. Anyway, he was halfway up the stairs before Jared could open his mouth, and all that came out after the door was shut behind him was a soft:

“Please…”

&&&

JENSEN

Those first few days after Jared was taken were the most horrible days of Jensen’s entire life. He must’ve told the story at least twenty times, trying so hard to remember anything, anything at all that would give the police a clue as to what had happened and where Jared had been taken.

He was asked all kinds of questions about what the man in the ice cream truck looked like, what he was wearing, what Jared was wearing, what the man had sounded like, and what he’d said as he’d driven away.

They kept asking if Jensen had seen him anywhere before. Jensen really couldn’t say. He knew the man had been young, mid-twenties to early thirties, something like that. Light eyes, maybe. He hadn’t gotten that good of a look. Brown hair.

Normal looking. So freaking normal looking.

Jensen had trouble remembering details. It was like it had all happened in a dream; everything was covered in a film of disbelief and denial. He didn’t want to believe that this had happened at all, let alone happened to Jared.

How could he have let this happen?

They were told that the police had put out an APB to all surrounding districts and an Amber Alert so that anyone who saw anything would get in contact with them.

They said that the first twenty-four hours were crucial.

They said that they’d do everything they could to find Jared as soon as possible. The longer he stayed missing, the more dangerous the situation.

They said pretty soon the FBI would have to get involved, as there’d been time enough for the perpetrator to cross state lines, and it wouldn’t be in their jurisdiction anymore to try and solve the case.

They said a lot of things that Jensen had to ignore so he wouldn’t break down into a gutted mess of terror and guilt and misery, his insides turned out and torn apart, spilled onto the scuffed grey linoleum of the police department floor.

He had to keep it together.

His mom was amazing, by his side nearly the whole time, there when he told the story to the Padaleckis and Jensen was scared they’d be angry enough to kill him. He knew he would be.

She was there for him every day, there for Mrs. Padalecki every day too; a shoulder to cry on and a strong voice to tell everyone it would be alright.

The bad thing was that Jensen was no longer sure that everything would be alright. It was three days until they heard back from the police that they had a lead that’d gone cold, lost the trail, and weren’t sure that the guy was even still in state. The FBI would be taking over, and they’d keep on the lookout, but there wasn’t much else they could do.

Jensen told the story again, to two FBI agents and they gathered information at the Padaleckis. Then it was all out of Jensen’s hands. They said there was nothing else that they needed him for, nothing else he could do. They’d keep in touch about the progression of the case, but he should try and get on with his life.

From then on it was like time sped up.

His mom went back to work at the hospital, taking odd hours to be home more often when Jensen was awake. Josh came home from sleep-away camp. The Padaleckis put up signs in their neighborhood and paid for Jared’s face to be put on the local news a few times.

Jensen never watched the local news.

He didn’t do much of anything after it all except shuffle around the house in his pajamas, sleep, eat, and dream about Jared.

Sometimes the dreams were really nightmares, sometimes good memories, but Jensen always woke up with tears in his eyes, heart beating out of rhythm, and it was always a little difficult to breathe too. His chest felt heavy, his throat choked with guilt and anguish.

God, Jared was _gone_.

 

[ ](http://redrum669.livejournal.com/21728.html)

 

JARED

Time passed.

Jared wasn’t really sure exactly how much time. It was always dark where he was, always slightly cool, and the light was always the same kind of dim when _he_ would come and visit.

Eventually Jared realized it must be twice a day he’d come to pet him, to call Jared nice things, and tell him he was “perfect”. It was difficult to tell, but there were sounds, even if he couldn’t see much. He’d hear a car pass by, or a dog bark, or a lawn mower start up and know that there were people around, that they were up and moving, and that it must be day. Night was nearly silent.

Those were the worst times.

His hands stayed bound, and he still didn’t have any clothes, but _he_ would bring him food. Good food. Sandwiches, and milk, and apples sweeter than any Jared had ever tasted before. He’d eat it out of his hand, feeling like a baby, unable to do anything himself, and embarrassed because of it. But there wasn’t anything else that he could do.

He’d tried refusing the food at first, like he’d tried to refuse the water. He didn’t want to take anything from this man.

But before long Jared was hungry; hungry in a way he’d never really felt before, the pain of it gnawing at his stomach and aching in his tired limbs. So when Mr. Jake refused to leave the food there for him to eat on his own, he just ate it out of his hand.

Every time Jared would ask one question; just one. He was afraid to talk too much for fear of making him angry. Mr. Jake had been nice so far but Jared still had no idea why he was here, or what Mr. Jake would do to him, so he was wary. He had to ask, though, when he could go home. He couldn’t imagine that Mr. Jake would keep him there--in that dark, quiet room--alone forever. He had to get home.

Besides, his Mom and Dad would pay to get him free. If it was money that Mr. Jake wanted, Jared knew his parents would pay “through the nose”, like his dad sometimes said to mean _a lot of money_ , to get him free.

So he asked each time, when he was going home, sometimes why he was there, but usually when he was going home, and Mr. Jake always said “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.”

But Jared was already not fine, and that didn’t answer his question.

He had to try really, really hard in those moments to keep from panicking or screaming at having absolutely no way of knowing how long he’d be there, and where he was, or what to do.

He didn’t know what to do.

….

There was a bucket that he brought down every day, twice a day, when he brought Jared’s food and Jared was told to go to the bathroom in it. He’d walked around his dark space once and felt four walls, some shelves, maybe, with nothing on them, some wooden boxes with nothing in them, and what might have been an old lawn mower, but no bathroom, and no place to go that wouldn’t make it smell down there.

So, when he brought the bucket Jared went, standing on shaking knees, holding himself and feeling wrong and uncomfortable when Mr. Jake would watch as he did. Number two was even more uncomfortable, but at least Mr. Jake brought toilet tissue and didn’t stay long after Jared did that.

Jared tried to mark down how many meals he’d gotten in the wood wall with a rusty nail he’d found in the corner of the room. It helped him keep track of how long he’d been down there. For some reason he felt like it was important that he know.

It was fourteen meals, eight, nine, maybe ten days by his count, when things changed.

&&&

JENSEN

Nearly two weeks after Jared went missing, a week after his brother Josh came back from sleep away camp, a week after his mother started work again, Jensen had his first panic attack.

He was at the sink in the kitchen pouring himself a bowl of cereal and realized suddenly that it was the same cereal that he’d finished on the way to the park that day. He ignored the thought as best he could, and made to get on with eating, but his hands were shaking and his heart was beating too fast again, and he just wanted to not be inside his body for just one minute. To not _ache_ like this all the time, not wonder where Jared was or how he was hurt, because Jensen was no idiot and he knew by now Jared had to be hurt, and he just… _couldn’t_ …

He couldn’t breathe, or he was having trouble getting air, and he couldn’t think clearly, his mind was racing, filled with all of the things that he’d done wrong, all of the things that could possibly go wrong.

Was Jared dead? Was he alive? Would it be worse for him to be alive or dead? And where was he? Why was he taken? Why him? Why not Jensen? _Why him_?

Jensen’s felt like he might faint with how dizzy his head was, and the _panic_ , the pure unadulterated terror that swept through his veins like ice and gripped his heart inside his chest. It was unlike anything he’d felt before. He was _terrified_ but he didn’t quite know what about anymore. Whether it was fear for Jared or for himself he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that nothing would ever be right again, and he was probably going to die. Right here, he would die of a heart attack, and Jared would die, and nobody would even know. Nobody would ever know.

“Jensen!”

Jensen heard his name as if from far away, muffled, and yet still too loud in his ears. At least it drowned out the sound of his heart hammering inside his chest.

“Jensen.”

Suddenly Josh was there, hands on his shoulders too hot and too tight, settling Jensen into a kitchen chair and telling him to:

“Breathe, breathe, little brother, god, you’re okay. You’re okay. Here, look at me.”

Josh crouched down in front of Jensen, eyes boring into his.

“Look at me. Everything’s going to be okay, now. Alright? I’m here, you’re here. We’re just going to sit here and breathe together, right? And…and it’ll be okay.”

Jensen could tell that Josh was trying to help, and it was good to have him there, but his hands felt heavy and Jensen couldn’t sit still and didn’t want to sit still. He wanted to run, as far and as fast as he could away from all of this, from himself and Josh and the pain and confusion and just _everything_. But he couldn’t. He was stuck here, in this stupid body, in this stupid house, in this stupid life, and nothing would ever get better, and nothing would ever be okay.

He made to stand up, to move, to _do_ something. Despite how dizzy, he was feeling sitting was _not_ helping. It wasn’t making him feel better.

“I just, I just, I need to move, can you…”

He could barely speak, but Josh noticed what he was doing and caught on quick.

“Yeah, yeah, what? You wanna walk? We can walk. I’ll walk with you, okay? We’ll walk together. We’ll walk and we’ll breathe. It’ll be okay.”

Jensen nodded and started pacing from one end of the room to the other with Josh following him every step of the way. Eventually, Josh steered him out of the room with a light hand at his back and they walked around downstairs, out of the door, around the corner.

Jensen couldn’t tell how long it was until he felt like he had better control of his body, when his hands stopped shaking, his lungs stopped seizing, and he stopped feeling like he was going to burst out of his skin.

It stopped almost as quickly as it had started. It wasn’t jarringly sudden, but the shaking in his hands got less and less obvious in the span of just a few seconds, and breathing became easier. His heart rate dropped to a more comfortable level.

Jensen looked at Josh as they made their way up the steps back into the house, blinking sweat out of his eyes and wiping his brow with the back of one hand.

Now, he felt like sitting.

“What do you need? You want some water?” Josh asked as he bustled into the kitchen and Jensen fell down into a chair.

Jensen nodded.

He finished his water, sat silently for a time and then asked Josh what was going on.

“I had a friend last year who had panic attacks. I can’t be sure, but…that’s what it looked like to me.”

Jensen nodded, hating the fact that it sounded right, hating the fact that this was a part of him now. Panic. Worry. Always settled in his bones, waiting to rise up in him and strike at any moment.

“Was that the first time something like that happened?”

Jensen nodded again, “Yeah.”

“We need to tell Mom.”

“Yeah.”

&&&

JARED

Mr. Jake came down the stairs with his food on the eighth, or ninth, or tenth day and Jared was actually happy to see him. Not because he truly wanted to see _him_ but because he hadn’t eaten in what felt like a while, hadn’t seen anything other than darkness for what felt like too long, and he was happy to see anything other than that.

The food was different this time. Mr. Jake had ice cream and two cookies with Jared’s sandwich. Two cookies with one silver spoon set between them.

He smiled at Jared, like he always did, and then set down the food.

“Hey, Jared. Did you miss me?”

Jared didn’t answer. He never knew what to say to him when he asked these questions. Questions like Jared actually wanted to be here. So he just said nothing.

“Are you hungry?”

Jared nodded silently. He was hungry. Not starving, and not nearly as bad as it had been when he’d been trying to ignore it instead of eating, but hungry all the same.

“Okay, you can eat it,” he said, nodding towards the food on the floor.

Jared reached for it with his bound hands, confused as to why he was letting him feed himself this time, but not of a mind to ask and have the privilege taken away.

But Mr. Jake stopped his progress, putting a hand on his arm and pushing him back toward his corner.

“You can eat it…after.”

_After what?_ Jared wanted to ask, but he had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and something told him he didn’t really want to know after what.

“I’m going to take off my clothes and you’re going to make me feel good, okay? Do you know how to do that, Jared? Do you ever make yourself feel good?”

Jared started to shake his head from side to side, not wanting anything to do with making him feel anything. He wasn’t completely stupid and he was almost eleven, so he had some vague idea of what Mr. Jake wanted from him, but no way of knowing exactly what or how or why.

All he knew was he was scared, and he didn’t want this.

Mr. Jake took off his t-shirt.

“You don’t know how to make yourself feel good, Jared? Well, I’ll have to show you some time. But not today. Today, you’re going to help me, okay? Now, don’t fight me. We’re going to have a real good time together, okay?

He took off his shoes.

“Come here.”

Jared didn’t move. He stayed curled up in his corner, muscles stiff with tension and fear. He didn’t want this.

He took off his pants.

“Come here, Jared. I promise, if you’re good, everything will be fine. Come here.”

His voice was low, coaxing. He wasn’t yelling and he wasn’t angry, but Jared flinched away anyway as he felt him move closer. He had his head tucked under his arms, his face toward the wall now, eyes shut tight, doing anything he could to make this nightmare disappear.

Mr. Jake pulled him up by his arm, hand rough and squeezing too hard.

“Come here, Jared.”

His voice sharpened, just the tiniest bit. “I don’t like having to repeat myself.”

Jared couldn’t help but fight against the hands pulling at him, pushing at him, trying to force him to his knees. He put all of his energy into trying to get away, into trying to get Mr. Jake _off_ of him. He’d never been so terrified of what was going to happen to him. His heart was hammering so fast it was painful, and it felt like there was a golf ball lodged in his throat. The back of his tongue buzzed, like he’d been stung.

He’d held back because of fear before, but right then he was more afraid of what he _knew_ was going to happen than what _could_ happen if he ran. It was all he could think of, getting _away_.

He kicked and flailed, head shaking back and forth, and biting anything that got in his face.

He got in a few hits before he was overpowered by the man, his body too big and his limbs too long for Jared to fight against.

He struggled ineffectually against the weight of him, but couldn’t do anything more, pinned to the floor like a bug trapped by its wings.

Mr. Jake tsked slowly, a sad, almost regretful look coming into shape on his face.

“You’re supposed to be good to me. _Not_ fight.” He emphasized the last part, pushing down harder on Jared’s shoulders and splayed knees, grinding his bones into the cement.

“Don’t you understand? You’re supposed to be a good boy for me Jared. You’re being a bad boy right now. Do you know what happens to bad boys?”

His voice was sweet, soft, and pleasant.

Jared just whimpered, his terrified mind coming up with all kinds of horrible things that hecould do to him.

“Bad boys get hurt, Jared,” he said, softly sliding one grimy palm across his cheek. The dirt scraped across Jared’s sensitive, bloodwarm skin, and he tried to turn to get away from that hand, but Mr. Jake dug his fingers in, with a grip in his hair, and his long thumb digging into the soft underside of Jared’s chin.

“I don’t _want_ to hurt you,” he explained in a low, slow drawl, “but when you misbehave you give me no choice but to punish you.”

He leaned down and Jared didn’t know what he expected. To get hit, or punched maybe, but Mr. Jake didn’t do either of those things. Instead he gripped Jared’s two wrists in one hand as he leaned toward him and _bit_ his arm.

At first, Jared was just confused, but then there were more. More bites, and more pain, like Mr. Jake was actually trying to bite _through_ his arm, sharp teeth digging jaggedly into his skin.

He tried to stay quiet at first, but it hurt too much for him to keep from crying out.

Jared felt his hot breath, heavy and wet against his skin as he bit him again and rutted against him.

He squirmed and twisted, fighting against the pain, against what he knew was already going to happen to him.

“Shhhh, shhhhh, baby boy. It’ll be so much easier if you just calm down,” Mr. Jake said into his neck, stroking Jared’s hair, pulling just the tiniest bit.

Jared didn’t want to make him angrier, but he didn’t want this. He felt sick, and hurt, and twisted, and wrong in so many ways.

Mr. Jake just adjusted his hold, shifted his weight and pushed down harder, shoving Jared’s face sideways into the concrete and digging his nose into Jared’s collar bone as he grunted and sweated and strained above him.

There was no fighting this off, and no running away. He was stuck here, underneath this man until he decided to let him go.

Jared went limp and lifeless. He couldn’t help the cries of pain, though, especially when Mr. Jake forced his way inside him.

Jared didn’t even know it was possible, and kept trying to say no, that he’d be good, that he’d stop fighting, he was sorry. He was _so sorry_.

But he didn’t listen, he just kept shushing him, just kept going, and Jared felt like he was being torn in half.

Everything hurt. _Everything_. It was a burning, dragging, tearing pain that wouldn’t stop. At some point he felt wetness against his thighs and thought it might be blood, but he couldn’t smell past _his_ sweat and skin.

He couldn’t be sure how long it went on. It felt like he floated in and out of his body, like sometimes it hurt so badly, and all he could do was lie there, crying out helplessly, voice gone hoarse and raw at the edges, and sometimes he wasn’t there at all. He was just somewhere else. Not there, not anywhere.

When he was done and pulled out and away, Jared felt a mixture of relief and even more terror. He was afraid that Mr. Jake would hurt him more, afraid that he’d stay and try and feed him, and Jared would just throw it back up and make him angrier.

Afraid that he’d leave and Jared would be left alone, in the dark, cool room to bleed and bleed and bleed until he died.

Afraid of everything.

But Mr. Jake didn’t do any of those things. He did go upstairs after dressing, but after some time he came back down. He cleaned Jared up with something wet and warm and Jared was too tired to move, to do anything but let him.

He wrapped a towel around his waist, told Jared he could eat then. With a soft kiss to his hair, he left, locking the door behind him with a heavy, hopeless clunk.

Jared looked over at the melted ice cream, two cookies floating sadly in the sticky white mess…. and cried.  



	3. So This Is How I'm Slipping Away  {Autumn}

# Autumn

  
  
JENSEN

It felt like it went by in the blink of an eye, the time between Jared’s disappearance and going back to school. Jensen’s mother took him to the doctor and they discussed potential medications and ways of ‘coping’. She started talking about going to therapy.

Jensen thought it was all pretty stupid. What did he have to go to therapy for? What did he have to cope with? _He_ wasn’t the kid who got taken at his neighborhood park. He wasn’t the parent of a child most likely dead in a ditch somewhere. He wasn’t a sibling or a cousin or a distant relative even.

He was just the idiot who let Jared get taken.

He didn’t deserve anyone sitting in front of him and telling him how much it wasn’t his fault in a soothing, sad tone. He didn’t need his mom hovering, constantly worrying over him, asking him how his day was, asking him if he’d felt anxious, sad, upset, restless, angry, detached…

He always felt those things.

And he always told her that he felt fine.

His brother Josh was a bit better about not getting in his space, and a little subtler with his questions but he still made Jensen feel smothered.

Jensen didn’t want all of that attention and concern, he just wanted to disappear.

He didn’t want to die; he just…didn’t want to be here anymore, in this place with horrible people that took away best friends.

He _really_ wasn’t looking forward to the new school year. Aside from the fact that Jared wouldn’t be there, he didn’t want to deal with all of the questions, and people watching him in the halls. The whispers, and the rumors, and the jokes, he didn’t want to deal with any of it.

But his mom forced him out of bed, out to the car, and drove him there herself the first day, just to make sure he got there, and he didn’t have the guts to walk out after that.

He went to class and he sat down with his head on his arms, and he slept. It was all he did anymore, because it was all he wanted to do. Some days he just couldn’t get up the energy for anything else.

In his third class of the day he was shaken out of his light sleep by a soft, melodic, slightly raspy voice.

“Hey, you might not want to sleep in this class. I hear Brown is a bit of a hothead and sends kids to the principal’s office, like...daily.”

Jensen just shrugged, not overly worried and not pretending to be.

The girl raised her dark, delicate eyebrows at him before rolling her eyes and mumbling to herself.

Jensen thought he heard a “…get why she likes you…” and was curious for about two seconds before he realized it would take too much effort to ask what she meant, and laid his head back down in the fold of his arms.

The rest of his day went similarly. He skipped out on lunch and snuck into the janitor’s closet to nap instead. The only reason he didn’t go to the nurse’s office was he didn’t want them to contact his mother, and he knew they were on high alert about his behavior and his meds because his Mom told him they would be.

During his second to last class of the day he got called out of class by the front desk lady from the main office, and thought for sure they’d bust him about the janitor’s closet. He fidgeted as he followed her down the hall, worried about what his Mom would do when she found out, but instead of leading him to the main office, she walked him to the school counselor’s office.

“For the second half of every sixth period class you have you’re going to come here. You’ll get the notes from another student for whatever you missed, and all of your teachers know about what’s going on so you don’t have to worry about getting in trouble, okay? You just quietly leave the classroom and come here.”

Jensen nodded to show he understood.

“Good,” the secretary said with a brisk nod before bustling away to leave him standing alone in front of the counselor’s door.

Jensen didn’t dare walk in at first, but then he heard what sounded like a semi-familiar, raspy voice behind the door and pushed his way inside.

There was a little couch against a wall, and a table and bookshelf, and two other doors leading to two private offices. More importantly, though, there were two girls sitting on that small couch, staring at him. Like he’d guessed, one of them was the same girl that had warned Jensen about Mr. Brown in class earlier.

Jensen didn’t want to be rude or anything so he figured he’d say something.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” the girl from earlier responded. She had a backwards cap on and jeans with a hole in the knee that Jensen thought looked pretty cool.

“I’m Jensen.”

“I know who you are.” She sounded matter of fact about it, not stalker-ish, but Jensen couldn’t decide if it was creepy or not.

He just nodded in reply.

“I’m Sophia, and this is Danneel,” she said, gesturing to the girl sitting beside her. She had brown hair and a round face, and Jensen couldn’t remember ever seeing her around school before.

“She’s new here, and she’s my best friend,” Sophia said as she stood and started making her way towards the door, making her way closer to Jensen.

“If you make her cry, I will hurt you,” she said, pointing a finger in his face.

Jensen wasn’t really sure how to respond to that. He wasn’t usually in the business of making girls cry anyway, but despite how small Sophia was she looked scarily serious, and seriously scary.

Jensen just nodded again and watched warily as she walked out of the door.

When he turned back to look at Danneel she smiled a small half smile.

Jensen smiled back in the same way, and sat down next to her.

He picked at a loose thread in the fabric of the couch and chewed on the inside of his cheek nervously before opening his mouth to say something…anything.

“I’ve never been here before.”

“Me neither,” the girl, Danneel, responded quickly, voice soft but even and clear in the quiet room.

Jensen nodded.

“I hope the counselor’s not weird,” he tried, tapping his foot in an offbeat rhythm.

“Me too,” she said.

Jensen blinked six times, scratched at his arm, and decided to just wait silently.

“My neighbor’s dog got run over by a Hummer in front of my house, and then my aunt got cancer.”

Jensen cut his eyes over to look at Danneel’s face but it hadn’t changed and she didn’t turn towards him. He turned to face forward again.

“Why are you here?”

“...My best friend got kidnapped by the ice-cream man.”

“……..”

“……..”

“I think you win.”

Jensen let out a nearly silent chuckle, and looked over at her again, at how still she was, at how blank her face seemed.

“Pretty sure I don’t.”

&&&

JARED

Jared noticed that the nights were getting colder, chill seeping in through the cracks in the walls and the door up above. He’d stopped keeping track of meals a while ago, not able to tell what time of day it was by summer sounds anymore, waking up to darkness all of the time, and never noticing much light at all when Mr. Jake opened the door now. It didn’t do him much good in counting the days when he had no way of knowing when one day ended and another began.

He wondered if school had started already.

He didn’t want to miss any school. He might get in trouble.

He didn’t want to get in trouble. What if they kicked him out?

Jared liked school.

He wanted to go back to school.

Usually, he dreaded going back. Especially last year when he went to a different school than Jensen.

Jensen.

God, he missed him. And his Mom, and his Dad, and Megan, and Jeff, and…

He just wanted to go home.

Jared tucked his face against his dirty knees and fought back the tears that tried to come. He was tired of crying.

….

Jared was woken up suddenly by the sound of the padlock on the door clicking open.

His mouth went dry, his stomach and throat tight and aching.

It’d been a little while since Mr. Jake had come to visit, and the last time he’d come to visit, it was for _that_. Though not as bad as the first time, it had still hurt like nothing Jared had ever felt before.

He hadn’t fought, and he hadn’t screamed, he’d just lain there and done his best to think of other things, like home, and his bed, and his mom’s hugs, until he was done.

He’d bled that time, too, but way less, and he didn’t feel as ripped open as the first time. Still broken, still torn, and hurt, but his body healed itself faster after the second time.

He hoped that he wasn’t coming back for a third.

There was the slight squeak of the door as it opened and a gust of air that smelled like apples and dirt made its way to Jared as Mr. Jake shut the door.

He came down the stairs quickly and Jared noticed there was something round and sweet-smelling in his hand.

Pie.

“I brought you something.”

Jared scrambled back further into his dark corner. Gifts were not a good thing.

“No, don’t do that. It’s good, see,” he said, waving the pie in Jared’s direction. “And I just want to talk today. You can talk to me, can’t you Jared?”

Jared thought it safer not to respond.

Mr. Jake sat down beside him and placed the pie between them, two forks set on top this time.

“Here. Eat.”

Jared just looked at it for a moment, but he _was_ really hungry, and Mr. Jake did seem to just want to sit. He scooted over a bit and tried to grab at the fork with his bound hands. He didn’t have much luck getting a good grip on the fork, though, and he could feel himself getting discouraged quickly. Any other time Mr. Jake would just feed him. Why wasn’t he doing it now?

Just as tears of frustration started to make their way to Jared’s eyes, Mr. Jake took hold of his wrists and brought a knife forward.

Jared flinched so hard at the sight of it that his teeth clacked together.

“Hey, hey…be still. Look.” His voice was sharp, but not angry, and Jared stilled, watched as he cut off the ropes that had been around his wrists for so long.

Underneath them the skin was broken, bleeding, flayed, and raw, but Jared didn’t care. His wrists were _free_. He was _so_ happy to be free of the ropes, so _grateful_ to Mr. Jake for cutting him free. He could move his hands. He could-

“Now, don’t you go getting any funny ideas,” Mr. Jake drawled. “You belong here, with me. You get that, don’t you? You know I don’t like punishment, but I _will_ punish you if I have to, Jared.”

Jared leaned away instinctively, not sure what “funny ideas” it was he didn’t want him to have. He watched again as Mr. Jake cut the pie into wide, thick slices; each one exactly the same size as the last.

“You’ve been good lately, and I wanna talk to you.”

Jared looked up at him, looked at the pie, and looked up at him again.

“Go on, eat.”

Jared hesitated for a moment longer, then reached forward, took hold of one fork quickly with a shaking hand, and began to eat the slice closest to him.

“You’ve been here for a little while now, and I’m really glad you’re here. You’re the first person to ever help me, Jared, did you know that? No one cares about Jake Meyers. Just you.”

The pie was still warm, sweet and soft, the crust flakey and buttery as it melted on his tongue.

“No one thinks that I tried. I tried. I tried really hard, Jared. To be a good person. To get better…”

Mr. Jake shook his head before picking up the other fork and digging into another slice.

“People think that I’m sick, but…but no one cares enough to do anything about it. When I first saw you I knew…I knew you were perfect. I knew you would be perfect, Jared.”

He reached out to Jared’s face with one free hand and swept his hair behind his ear in a gentle gesture that made Jared’s insides twist with fear and longing. His mom did that to him all of the time.

Mr. Jake cleared his throat and moved his hand away. “I’m going to be gone for a little while. I’ve got something to take care of.”

Gone? Where was he going? What about Jared? He couldn’t just _leave_ him.

“But I’m leaving your bucket down here, and I’m leaving you food and water at the top of the stairs. I’m leaving the ropes off. If you try to escape…I’ll know. I’ll know you’ve been a bad boy, Jared. And what happens to bad boys?” Mr. Jake asked, voice tipping up patiently.

Jared shook his head.

“ _What happens to bad boys, Jared_?” Mr. Jake repeated, tone just a little dangerous as he let the fork in his fist drop to the cement with a muted clang.

“Bad boys get punished,” Jared whispered, feeling like he was dragging the words up from somewhere deep inside himself. His voice was rough from disuse.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard himself speak out loud.

“That’s right. Be a good boy while I’m gone, and I’ll be back soon. And when I come back, we’ll see about moving you to a new place.”

As he stood to make his way back up the stairs he looked down at Jared and softened his voice to something low and sweet.

He rubbed an affectionate hand across Jared’s head and said, “It’s dark down here, and I want to be able to see your face when I fuck you.”

&&&

JENSEN

“Jensen, come oooonn!”

Jensen scuffed the toe of his sneaker against the gritty dirt of the baseball field and frowned. He didn’t really feel like playing. Not that he felt like doing much of anything, these days, but of all of the things he could possibly do during recess, playing baseball was like...the last thing he would have chosen. Sleeping maybe. In the janitor’s closet again, or in the counselor's office, or at the nurse. In fact, he sort of felt a stomach ache coming on. Maybe that could get him out of this.

“Seriously, we’re only down one because Peter wussed out when he got hit by the ball. You’re bigger ‘n him, and anyway Danneel refuses to play. Something about a dirty skirt. Please, please, please….pleaaaasseeeeee?”

Jensen watched warily as Sophia dropped to her grubby knees in the dirt, and folded her hands together to beg.

“Pleaaaaase?”

She blinked up at him from beneath the rim of her cap, big brown eyes colored with pleading instead of the normal flat coolness. Despite how much Jensen knew he was being played, he was pretty weak against the eyes. Always had been when it’d come to Jared too.

Ugh.

“Fine, yes, fine,” he said agitatedly, waving his hand at her, gesturing for her to get up, and pushing away the thoughts of Jared that were trying to eat away at his brain.

“Really?” Sophia rasped, bouncing on her toes.

“Yeah, I said already, didn’t I?”

“You’re the best!” Sophia screeched, more shrill than usual, before punching him in the shoulder and turning around to head back to the pitcher’s mound.

“You just play right outer field, okay?!” she called back over her shoulder.

“You got it,” Jensen snarked, saluting lazily.

He saw Danneel stand up in the stands out of the corner of his eye.

“Don’t let that ball hit the ground, Ackles,” she yelled. “I’ve got lunch money riding on this game!”

She was so weird. The both of them were, honestly, just really really strange.

“You heard the girl,” Sophia shouted back as she winded back for the pitch, “...lunch, Jackles. If that doesn’t get you going I don’t know what will.”

Jensen just rolled his eyes, unable to help a slight fleeting smile, and got ready to catch the baseball in case it flew in his direction.

……………….

“Sophia...

Sophia…

Sophia!”

Jensen grabbed the nearest pillow off of the couch behind him and tossed it at Sophia’s head.

“Hey!” Sophia growled out, yanking her headphones out of her ears and turning to glare at him.

Jensen jerked his thumb at Danny, rolling his eyes.

“If you tap that pencil one more time, I’m going to stuff it down your throat,” Danneel barked.

Sophia stilled entirely, eyebrows scrunched low on her forehead. She deliberately tapped her pencil three times.

“That’s it,” said Danny, hopping up and hurling her body to where Sophia was lying on the floor.

Sophia was just rising to her knees to fend her off when Jensen got alarmed enough by the fury on Danneel’s face to butt in.

“Woah, woah, woah, easy, easy…” Jensen said, pushing her back with a hand on her shoulder. Danny wasn’t small by any stretch of the imagination, but she was maybe four inches shorter than he was, so it was fairly easy to overpower her.

Sophia on the other hand, tended to be scrappy. He’d seen her in enough scuffles to know. He was grateful she wasn’t trying to fight back, and just stood there, arms crossed, as Danneel strained to get past him.

“I’ll wring her scrawny little neck!”

“Seriously, Danny, calm down!”

“Calm down?” she yelled, pushing back and away to pace in front of him.

“Yeah, chill out okay? What are you so mad about, anyway, huh?”

Sophia was always a little twitchy like that. It didn’t seem to bother her any other time.

“I’m mad because you and the human clock over here,” she said, gesturing wildly in Sophia’s direction, “have been slacking off for the past two weeks. Throwing spitballs at each other in Adam’s class, playing video games on her stupid Atari every time I suggest taking out a book, and now that it’s crunch time, the night before the stupid test, and you finally decide to study, I get distracted by her _pencil tapping_.”

Sophia just rolled her eyes.

Jensen coughed awkwardly. “Well, um…I’m sure Sophie doesn’t mean it, Danneel. She’s just sort of keyed up, right? Worried about the test and all?” Jensen threw an arm around Sophia’s shoulders before pulling her into his side and shaking her a little.

“She’ll loosen up, now, though. And then she won’t tap as much. Problem solved.”

Jensen shrugged when Danneel gave him a scathing look.

“No, problem not solved. Problem anything but solved.” Danneel muttered primly before turning her back on him and shoving her books into her shoulder bag. “I’m going to call my dad to come and pick me up.”

Sophia moved out from underneath Jensen’s arm then, reaching forward. “Danny, no, come on. Are you serious? You always spend the night on Thursdays.”

“Not tonight,” Danneel said, shaking her head firmly and starting to dial her phone.

“Danny…” Sophia said. Her voice was softer than anything Jensen had ever heard from her.

Danny just ignored her though, walking out into the parlor to make her call.

Jensen looked down at his socked feet shuffling against the sky blue carpet. His chest ached uncomfortably.

“Ugh!” Sophia said, plopping herself on the floor again and going back to her work.

Jensen sighed before sliding back down to where he was leaning against the couch.

“So…that’s it?”

Sophia looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“I told her not to go and she left anyway. Yeah, that’s it.”

She bit her lip as she looked away and stared down at her book; she was blinking a little too slowly, eyes a little too vacant to actually be reading.

Jensen waited another minute before he couldn’t help but ask.

“All that over you tapping your pencil?”

Sophia snorted. “No. That probably wasn’t at all about me tapping my stupid pencil. It probably wasn’t even about this stupid test because Danny knows she’ll ace it.”

Jensen nodded. Yeah, Danny did do the best in school out of the three of them. She usually did really well, actually, now that he thought about it. “So then what’s it about?”

Sophia stared at him for a bit before shaking her head suddenly, and sighing. “No, nope, it’s fine. It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. We’ll figure it out. Whatever.”

“….O-kaaayyy.”

“No, seriously Jackels. Forget about it, okay? You’ll just make it worse,” she said, waving her pencil free hand. “….It’s girl stuff.”

“Oh,” Jensen said, slightly put off at the phrase “girl stuff”. That was never a good thing in his mind, but it also meant there wasn’t much for him to do fix it. He knew pretty much nothing about girl stuff.

“Yeah,” Sophia said with a sad little smirk. “So butt out, okay?”

“Yeah, Yeah,” Jensen said rolling his eyes in her direction. “But if she goes for your throat again, I won’t be there to stop her.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t get that far again, then, right?”

“Yeah,” Jensen said, feeling that uncomfortable weight in his chest again.

He took a deep breath, and then another, and distracted himself with his history text book until it went away.

……………...

At lunch, Jensen slowly got used to Danny’s girly pink lunch box with the hello kitty stickers, and he never commented on the way Sophia ate like she had three stomachs and she never commented on the fact that Jensen stood in the lunch line like everybody else, but just showed his school id and never paid any money at the register.

When he walked home, there was more than the sound of the leaves crunching under his feet, and he was grateful. Even though the babble wasn’t quite the same as he’d expected it would be this year it filled in the silences, the empty spaces in his head; it let him ignore the empty spaces elsewhere.

Sophie was easier to talk to about sports, and comic books, and video games. But when Jensen’s face got hot, and his chest got tight, and his ears started ringing Danny’s was the first face he looked for.

One morning he woke and realized he hadn’t dreamt about Jared in a week. When he told his counselor, Eliot, he said it was a good thing.

Jensen wasn’t quite sure.

&&&

JARED

It felt like he’d been gone forever. Jared was stuck in that dark place with nothing to do and no one to talk to but the spiders that came out at night. He couldn’t see anything, and no matter how many times he made a circuit of the rectangular room the walls were just as solid, the floor just as hard and cold. He drank water when he got thirsty and ate, bread gone a little stale and an apple (crisp, tart, and crunchy, with juice that dripped sticky-sweet down his chin) every once in a while, when he got too hungry to resist.

Jared didn’t know how long the food would last him. He’d seen those sad kids on TV from really poor places, bones sticking out from the inside, pressed right up against their skin, their bellies hung low and saggy, and heads too large for their scarily skeleton-like bodies.

It looked like it hurt, and Jared could too easily remember what being truly hungry felt like. He wasn’t going to eat through everything Mr. Jake had left him too quickly.

Not when he wasn’t sure when….if… _when_ he would come back.

It really started to sink in that he was stuck here, wherever here was, and that he might stay here for a very long time.

Mr. Jake had said, had promised, that Jared would be put into a new space when he came back.

Jared hoped he’d come back.

It was smelly and he felt dirty, and tired, and so lonely.

Jared held onto the hope that he would be found. He knew his parents would never stop looking for him. That Jeff, and Megan, and Jensen, and Mrs. Ackles could never forget about him because he couldn’t forget about them.

But he figured Mr. Jake must have hid him pretty well, because as far as he could tell it’d been weeks, maybe more than that? Maybe a month? Two?

It’d been a long time since he was put down here, and still he wasn’t found.

He _would_ be found, _he had to be_ , he just didn’t know when.

Some nights (or days?) it was really hard to fall asleep and Jared sang all of his Sunday school songs to himself like his mama used to do when he was small. His voice wasn’t as pretty as hers and it was hard to rock himself with the chilled air getting inside his bones and making him shiver, but he tried anyway.

At his saddest moments, when he felt most alone and most afraid, and there were no more spiders to keep him company, Jared imagined Jensen was beside him, and they were just playing some stupid game.

Like when he was five and Jen was six and they found an abandoned fort tucked far back into the forest behind Jared’s house. Jensen had been a little scared but he’d tried to act like he wasn’t.

_“Let’s go, Jenssssen! Daddy found it yesterday. It’s ssoooo cool!” Jared had said through his slight lisp, pulling excitedly at Jensen’s arm._

_“Yeah, okay! Um…Jared, don’t you think we should tell your Dad?” Jensen had waved his arms a little, stumbling behind him._

Jensen was always a little bit of a worrier.

Jared didn’t really get it until…well, until he’d gotten here.

Now Jared worried all of the time. He worried that he wouldn’t be found. He worried that Mr. Jake wouldn’t come back. He worried about if Mr. Jake did come back, what would happen. He worried about how his parents might miss him as much as he missed them.

He worried so much it felt like just another ache, humming, and low, but always there. Always, always there.  



	4. So This Is How I'm Slipping Away  {Winter}

# Winter

  
  
JENSEN

Jensen frowned furiously as he tried, without much success, to stuff two textbooks, his snow boots _and_ his stupid puffy jacket into his uselessly skinny locker. He wasn’t really great at keeping it clean in the best of times, but the past couple of months of not caring about it at all had basically left it a junk pile that nearly toppled every time he opened the door. He still wasn’t ready to clean it out, though, so he had to find a way to fit more stuff _in_. It was, annoyingly, more complicated than he’d thought it’d be. After letting his textbooks drop to the bottom of the heap with heavy, muted thuds, undoubtedly crushing papers and binders and all kinds of important stuff in their wake, Jensen stepped back once more to heave himself forward. He put all of his strength into one last series of shoves, getting his boots in one by one. He was so close to getting his jacket stuffed into the tiny square section of his locker that was still visibly empty. So focused was he on his impossible task that he completely missed Danneel’s quick, sharp footsteps, didn’t notice she was even there, until she was right up in his face.

“Hey Jensen,” she said, voice loud and overly cheery in his ear.

He jumped, startled, and dropped his arms, letting all of the stuff he’d just tried to force inside his locker fall back out in an avalanche onto the dirty, checkered, linoleum of the school hallway.

He sighed in frustration, shooting Danny what he knew was not a nice look, and ignored her smile in favor of picking up his stuff and starting the process over again.

“Wow, your locker’s messy,” she said casually, clearly just talking to talk, but Jensen was already annoyed and needlessly angry with her for sneaking up on him, and he just-

“Yeah,” he answered back shortly.

“You should probably clean it soon.”

“Mmhmm,” he grunted out, pushing everything just a little bit harder.

He almost had it.

“I mean, we’ll have midterms soon before break, and you’ll have to know where everything is, and….”

Jensen tuned out her chattering, focusing instead on keeping his balance as he leaned down to pick up the last of the crap that’d fallen out of his locker with one unsteady hand. He was surprised when his fingers caught on something smooth instead of the roughness of paper or the hard front of a book.

He brought his hand up as he pushed everything in and finally shut the locker, having some idea already of what it might be and dreading actually seeing it. Jensen picked up his bag, and slung it over his shoulder, running the pad of his thumb over the dial on the padlock in his hand.

He looked down and saw it was black and silver, utterly ordinary looking and completely worthless now that it was closed. Or it would have been…before.

Jensen swallowed heavily, mind drifting to the moment he’d gotten the stupid thing.

_“Jen, you’ll have a real locker now, you need a real lock, dude,” Jared said, bouncing on his toes and tossing his floppy bangs out of his face._

_He handed Jensen a lumpy, hastily wrapped package and backed up a little, a small semi-shy smile on his face._

_Jensen squinted his eyes, not sure what Jared’s angle was. It’d been a long summer of doing nothing, going nowhere, and eating pretty much everything in the house for Jensen. Jared had come over whenever he could, but his parents didn’t much like Jensen, and he wasn’t allowed to come over at all on family nights or Barbeque Sundays. Jared had gone to day camp some weeks, too, so that left precious little time for them to hang out and well…do nothing._

_They had managed okay anyway, but in none of the time they’d gotten together had Jared even slightly mentioned middle school. Jensen had figured they just weren’t gonna talk about it until it happened._

_Fine with him. He barely wanted to think about it. A whole year without Jared._

_“You can’t let people steal all of your stuff, y’know?” Jared said, looking down at his shoes, and shuffling on Jensen’s front porch. He wouldn’t come in. His mom wouldn’t let him, not this late, but Jared could be super bratty and make pretty much anyone do what he wanted if he **really** wanted something. _

_Jensen was sure he’d pulled out the puppy eyes this time. Those babies were weapons, seriously._

_There was no other way he could have gotten his mom to bring him to Jensen’s place the night before the first day of school just to hand him a…a what?_

_Jensen opened the lumpy thing warily, having only half listened to Jared’s rambling, and was surprised when he saw what it was._

_“A padlock?”_

_“Well duh,” Jared said, rolling his eyes. “What else?”_

_“Um….thank you?” Jensen said, still thrown off, because why would Jared buy him a padlock?_

_Jared just shoved him, shaking his head in fake disgust. “Wow, see if I ever get you another gift, Jen.”_

_“What, dude, I just….I don’t…”_

_“Just...” Jared interrupted, voice strangely soft. “Just have a good first day yeah? Don’t be dumb, and don’t be all sulky like you get. Make friends, and…stuff.”_

_Jensen looked at him, at the blush rising on his cheeks and the awkward way he looked everywhere but at him, and felt this weird urge to hug him stupid._

_Jared just…_

_It was dumb, the lock. And he wasn’t even sure he’d need it ‘cause the lockers at school probably had them built in, but he just…_

_“You’re so stupid,” Jensen said, punching Jared lightly on the shoulder, and shaking off the sudden surge of emotion._

_“Whatever,” Jared said, before leaning in quickly and hugging him tight._

_It wasn’t a long hug, and he didn’t give Jensen time enough to even return it. He turned as soon as he stepped back, tossing words over his shoulder._

_“If anyone talks to you don’t just glare…okay? My mom says I can come over afterschool if I finish my homework before.”_

_Jensen rubbed a hand over the back of his head, confused and still feeling all warm and mushy from Jared’s hug._

_“Yeah, okay.”_

_The lock didn’t really come in handy at all. Turns out there were locks built in and after opening it once Jensen closed it by accident and promptly forgot the combination to open it again. He dropped it in the bottom of his locker, unconcerned with where it’d end up, and shuffled his way to his first middle school class._

_The padlock had stayed there, unused and forgotten…_

Until now.

“Jens?” Danny asked, touching his arm to get his attention, and Jensen jumped away from her hand.

“Yeah. Yeah, what?” he asked, shaking the memory loose and curling his fingers around the lock.

“You okay? I mean it’s okay if you’re not, y’know. You can tell me.”

Jensen turned away from her concerned frown and started walking down the hall to homeroom.

“No, seriously,” Danneel muttered, stumbling alongside his faster, longer stride. “I mean I know we don’t do the same counseling thing, but like…you _are_ my friend, and I think your guy, Eliot, does a lot of the same stuff my guy does, and I overhear sometimes, just a little bit, and maybe it could help if you just-”

“Danneel!” Jensen snapped, turning to look at her right outside of his homeroom door. He looked down and away, seriously uncomfortable with how closely she was looking at him, and all of the memories and moments crowding around in his brain, still. He didn’t need this. Couldn’t do this with her.

“I’m fine…just…leave me alone, okay?”

She looked hurt for a split second, too short for anyone but him and Sophia to notice, before nodding hurriedly and walking away to her own homeroom.

Jensen just sighed, stepping into his homeroom, finding his usual desk and putting his head down while he waited to hear the loud, obnoxious bell ring for first period.

He spun the lock in dizzying circles in front of his face, and tried to forget he ever existed _before_.

When lunch came around, and Sophia dove into the fray to get to the front of the line for her pudding, Danny tugged on his hand a little, pulling it into hers and touched their sweaty palms together for a second.

Jensen was a little weirded out at first, but then she said,

“You can talk to me…if you want, y’know. Like…I can’t do anything, but I’ll do this.”

She squeezed his hand in hers, and Jensen looked down at them…her soft, pale hand wrapped around his longer fingers, and rough, bulky knuckles. He knew there was probably dirt in the whirls of his fingertips, and Danny was kind of a clean freak, but when he tried to pull away she just pulled him back and held on tighter.

It felt nothing like when Jared hugged him, but it was still warm. And if her palm got a little sweatier when he gave in and folded his fingers over hers, tucked their hands under the lunch table…he didn’t notice it too much…not enough to ask why.

&&&

JARED

When Mr. Jake came back Jared cried. It was maybe a little because he was scared (always scared), but also because, now that he was back, Jared had one less thing to worry about.

He hated him _so much_ , hated him for keeping him here, but….he wasn’t _alone_ anymore _._

He sobbed, heavy and heartfelt, in Mr. Jake’s arms. He felt disgusting for doing it, but afterwards his chest was lighter. He could breathe a little better.

……

Mr. Jake didn’t let him see or walk himself out of the dark place where he’d kept him before he came back. He roughly wiped Jared’s face clean with a washcloth that was damp and warm, and gave him a big shirt to wear before tying what felt like soft cotton (a sock maybe) around Jared’s head. The darkness of before was replaced with a new kind of darkness, no shapes hiding in what he couldn’t see. In fact, not even the hint of light made it through the blindfold.

It made him feel even more uncertain, and he didn’t dare move when he couldn’t see what Mr. Jake was doing.

He didn’t have to.

Mr. Jake picked him up and wrapped him in some kind of scratchy blanket. Jared didn’t even try to struggle, knowing no good would come from it. He tried to figure out where he was being taken, not sure why he needed to know, but sure that it would make him feel better if he knew how to get back to the place he’d been stuck for so long.

It was only a few seconds though, going what felt like up, and a few more seconds of cold, whipping air against his face and then Jared was set down on something soft and solid. He reached out his hands and felt around him, palms gliding over the smooth coolness of….sheets?

“Welcome to your new home, Jared.” Mr. Jake said, and Jared wasn’t sure, but it sounded like he was smiling.

“It’s not much, but…it’s surely a step up from where you were. It’s warmer too.”

Mr. Jake reached behind his head then, startling Jared a little. He put a steadying hand on Jared’s shoulder and untied the blindfold.

Jared blinked his eyes, letting them adjust to the dim lighting that came from a small lamp in the corner.

He took in the new place.

There was a bed. Not like the one he had at his real home; it didn’t have a frame or his favorite race car blanket from years ago, but it was big, and way softer than the ground he’d had to lay on before.

There was a small, dusty table next to his bed, and a boxy, old looking TV in the other corner. A small heater was pushed up against the far wall.

His same bucket was set in front of what looked like the door, wooden and scratched and probably padlocked ( _impossible to move, impossible to break_ ), but there were big jugs of water next to it, and a crate with a bunch of stuff on it. Jared looked up with a question in his eyes and Mr. Jake waved his hand in what Jared had come to know meant “go ahead”.

He walked closer and peered down onto the crate to see a blue toothbrush, toothpaste, a bar of soap, and a small towel on top.

Jared smiled, and then couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up in his chest. He felt like he hadn’t gotten clean in _ages_.

When he turned around to look at Mr. Jake, he was smiling. Jared could see it this time.

He had a nice smile.

“Thank you,” Jared said, still chuckling just a little, not entirely sure why.

“You’re welcome, my _sweet_ boy” he said, laying one heavy hand in Jared’s long, tousled hair. “I’ll come in and make sure everything is as I like it at night. You keep the light on. You get to wash and brush your teeth once a day. You keep this shirt on, unless told to change, and you keep that bed nice and warm for me, okay?”

“Okay,” Jared said, nodding, not sure what else he should do.

Mr. Jake left him to it, that night, to get used to his new space.

Jared thought that it meant things were getting better, somehow, that maybe he’d let Jared go soon. Or maybe he just hoped a whole whole lot that was what it meant.

He really should have known better.

……………

There were movies.

Mr. Jake would come and visit him a lot more now that Jared was in what he called “the shed” in his head, or what Mr. Jake called his “new home”. Sometimes he didn’t do anything but talk about his day, about all of the people he saw, and about how everyone looked at him funny.

He’d say weird things about how somebody was watching him, and how no one understood. Jared never really got what it was that no one understood, but he didn’t really have to get what Mr. Jake talked about to be able to nod along at the right parts.

He’d gotten good at that…nodding along.

But sometimes Mr. Jake came with movies. He called them Jared’s “visual education” and said they were to help him feel good when he came home after a really tough day.

Jared knew enough to know that he shouldn’t have been watching it, and the wrongness of it, the squirmy, _badsickwrong-_ ness of it made him look away the first couple of times, until Mr. Jake had to sit behind him and hold his head in position to make sure he didn’t. Jared wouldn’t ( _couldn’t?_ ) move his head out of his hands.

A few times he got this odd feeling about the movies, like the kids in it (some of them younger than him, and that made his stomach hurt every time too) were off somehow, a little unreal.

It was weird, and made him uncomfortable, but those times were not the worst times. There were times, like before, like when he’d been in that dark place, that Mr. Jake came for _that_ again, but it was different now.

It changed.

Sometimes Mr. Jake wanted Jared’s mouth and it was wet, heavy, choking pressure, dizziness, and raw, burning throat. Unable to think, unable to breathe except in between shoves, and his chest tightening in fear that this was how it’d finally stop. That everything would go dark for good.

Sometimes the lack of air, the aching tightness…the looming darkness…was welcome.

But he always woke up afterwards, eyes crusted over from the tears that he hadn’t realized he’d cried and body sore and bruised.

Lately, Mr. Jake wanted Jared more than once. He stayed away for way longer than he used to, but stayed with Jared longer too. And he left suddenly, almost always gone by the time Jared woke, which made him feel a bit better and a bit worse at the same time.

Sometimes Mr. Jake brought gifts; food, or pencils and paper, or books for Jared to read, old and torn and worn looking. Novels and nonfiction, both, that Jared soaked up with an intense curiosity and longing for pretty much anything outside of the four walls of “the shed”.

On days when Jared was very good and Mr. Jake was in a very good mood, he would leave the TV on, taking Jared’s “visual education” with him, and wave his hand in that way that Jared had come to know meant “go ahead” and Jared could watch anything he wanted; shows he’d missed, and shows he’d used to watch with Jensen, and shows his mom would never have let him watch at home.

Jared had forgotten how funny TV could be.

He was glad Mr. Jake had good days, too.

He could forget, on those days, how bad the bad days were.

&&&

JENSEN

Jensen was glad when winter break came for more than one reason. He was happy to not be in classes, duh, but he was also pretty stoked about not having to be around Danny and Sophia for a little while. It made him feel like the biggest jerk on the planet, but Danny was acting really strange lately, at least around him; avoiding his eyes when she was talking to him, or making excuses to get away from him in the halls. Danneel acting weird tended to make Sophia all moody and sulky too, so lunch had basically turned into Danny babbling at him nervously while Sophia silently stared down her pudding or whatever. It was awkward, but they were his friends now, sort of, and so he didn’t want to just stop spending time with them. Maybe winter break would give them time to work out whatever it was, or at least time to forget about it. Jensen hoped that was what happened.

Aside from that he was just happy to not have to work so hard pretending to care about things he really couldn’t care less about, like dances, and crushes, and clothes. All of that seemed so far away, now.

Christmas was usually a quiet affair in the Ackles household, and this year was no different. Jensen didn’t have tons of cousins, no nosy Aunts, or crazy Uncles to fill up the house or holiday with noise, hustle and bustle. His mom had one sister, that she didn’t really talk to anymore, and his grandparents lived in a senior home down in Florida, too old and ill to fly up to visit often. His mom didn’t much like to fly, so their once a year trip down there was usually in the summer, when she could get off work for a family “vacation” for a few days in a row, and not have to call in sick days to do it.

So, Christmas meant her, Jensen, and Josh going shopping for the cheapest fake tree, and scrambling to find meaningful gifts for each other that they hadn’t already gotten in past years.

Jensen got a baseball mitt, a bulky black watch, and an ACDC t-shirt from his mom; he got a CD to match, and new socks from Josh. His dad sent him a card in the mail, signed from both him and Mac, that said “Happy Holidays” and nothing more, with a $25 gift card to Chik-Fil-A inside. He threw out the card, but tucked the gift card into his back pocket.

His mom made a turkey casserole and bought their favorite pie for dessert, and they all squished into the couch to watch a Charlie Brown’s Christmas tape that Jensen’d had since he was small.

It was maybe not the Christmas that people usually had, but it was theirs.

Jensen sat down at the foot of the couch with his second piece of pumpkin pie, feeling warm, and full, and comfortable in his new socks. Something in the back of his mind kept niggling at him, though, like the small squeak in a bathroom door, not loud enough for him to do anything about it, but getting more and more annoying the longer he ignored it.

He tried to get really into the movie, to let it go, but he knew the lines of this backwards and forwards by now, and it was easy to zone out to.

So he tried thinking about what it could be that was making him so jumpy, but his mind drew a complete blank. He was walking back to the kitchen for a glass of milk, about to mention to his mom that maybe he should up his dosage of Xanax, when he noticed she was on the phone, fingers twisting in the long cord as she “Uh huh-ed and Okay-ed”.

And it hit him suddenly, solidly, and horrifyingly in the chest what it was he was forgetting.

Jared.

Jared should’ve been calling right now. Well…Jared _would’ve_ been calling right now, going on excitedly about what he got, asking what Jensen was doing, and keeping him in the dark entirely about what gift he’d bought him. Jared would’ve been laughing, joking about his Uncle Gary’s toupee and Aunt Margaret’s gross irremovable lipstick stains, and how much food he’d put away. Jared would’ve been _home_ , happy and home if he wasn’t….

If he hadn’t…

_God_.

Jensen felt the chills first, racing along his skin, and inside his veins. There was tingling in his hands and feet, burning along his nerves like acid-tipped pins and needles, and he knew it was coming. He knew it was coming, and his counselor had been telling him about ways to try and stay calm. He was meant to think about good moments with Jared instead, but every thought of him just made his chest tighter and tighter because he was _gone_ and _never coming back never ever coming back, he was hurt hurt dead never coming back **dead**_ -

Jensen’s heart was beating a rapid, arrhythmic tattoo into his ribcage and no no no no no, please not today of all days.

He gasped in an effort to take in a breath, to get some air deep into his lungs, to slow his breathing like Eliot told him to, but it wasn’t working. This…this was happening.

_Oh God._

Jensen waved his hand in his mom’s direction wildly to get her attention. Eliot told him to never try to suffer through an attack alone. If he felt the signs of an oncoming attack, he should get _someone_ just in case things got bad enough to make a call.

So he did his best to continue with his flailing even though moving his arms felt like he was pushing through honey.

When his mom finally noticed and turned to see his face, she dropped the phone suddenly.

“Oh my god, Jensen? Jen, honey, it’s okay. Breathe, you’re going to be alright.”

His mom’s eyes were laser-focused on his, and her voice was steady, but seriously, who was she kidding?

He wasn’t going to be alright. No, he really wasn’t. Why would she say something so _stupid_?

Jensen just curled himself up against the counter, gripping it tightly just to have something to hold onto. He felt like all of his insides were vibrating, like his skin was gonna turn inside out, or melt off, or something, and then everyone could see how his soft, squishy insides were pounding and pulsing.

His mom didn’t try to touch him, or sit him down or anything, but she kept moving her hands toward and around him in fits and starts. He could see it out of the corner of his eye, and it was making him twitchy.

“Really, baby, everything will be fine,” she said, and kept saying, in lots of different ways. Lots of different ways of saying the same lie, and why wouldn’t she just shut up?!?!? How could she not get that nothing would ever be right again, that nothing would ever be _fine_ again, because-

No.

No, no, no, no, no, and then Josh came in with his stupid laughing face, saying something about a football and a doghouse, and Jensen just _couldn’t_ anymore. He just-he had to get _away_.

So he ran.

Oh, he ran.

He ran, and ran, and ran, and ran, socked feet snagging against random rocks on the pavement, and arms covered in goosebumps, even though he couldn’t feel the cold, could only feel the hot, painful prick of tears in his eyes, and the blood sizzling in his veins.

He was sure his mom called him, sure Josh tried to chase him, but he heard nothing and saw nothing, but the blur of cars and houses and street signs. He ran until the tight burning in his lungs had gone cold, and his fingers and toes went numb.

He ran until he stumbled, until he fell to his knees in muddy, dirty-snow lined grass that poked icy sharp through his sweats to scratch against his overheated skin.

When he looked up, he was at the park.

_The_ park.

The _park._

And it was weird that no matter how he said it in his head it still didn’t really sound big enough, scary enough. It just didn’t sound like _enough_ to mean everything that a stupid black top, a set of swings, and a box of woodchips had come to mean for Jensen.

How? How had this happened? And how was he supposed to just _deal_? To go to school and have friends, and walk around like his best friend wasn’t gone?

He stood up, angrily brushing wetness away from his face and made his way over to the swings.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid_.

If he’d never made that bet. If Jared had never taken it. If they’d never gotten on the swings in first place…

Jensen kicked at the swing set, again and again, shook the creaking, loosening pole back and forth wildly before banging his head against it.

God, he _hated_ this, hated everything.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight to stop the flow of useless tears and looked up at the darkening, grey sky before taking a deep breath and leaning back against the pole.

Feeling was coming back into his fingers and toes, he could breathe better now, and he realized, somewhere in the back of his mind, that it was really cold out tonight.

He looked out at the black concrete, empty but for a few pieces of trash littered across it, and made to turn away; if not to head back home, to at least leave _this_ place. But as he went to face the street again, he suddenly saw, out of the corner of his eye, a quick flash of red.

He gasped and jerked his head back to the sight of the blacktop, confused and unsure, and not daring to hope until --

And he saw Jared. Jared, in that faded red t-shirt, running from one end of the black-top to the other. He was laughing, but he was alone.

Jensen frowned.

“What are you doing?” he asked, surprised at the sound of his own voice. It was cracked and low, like he’d been screaming for hours.

Jared stopped running and turned towards him, one eyebrow raised.

“What do ya mean, what am I doing? What are _you_ doing?”

Jensen thought about that for a second, looked around him to the swing set he’d wailed on, and the empty playground, and then just shrugged.

He guessed that was a fair question, but he didn’t really have an answer so…

When Jensen looked back at him, Jared looked smug.

“What are you doing here, Jensen?” he asked, walking closer, but still not close enough for Jensen to reach out and touch.

“You know your mama doesn’t like it when you’re late to dinner,” he said, sounding stern. His eyes were bright and teasing.

Jensen swallowed. “We…we already had dinner,” he croaked out, mind running in circles as to how Jared had gotten here, and why he was alone, and how he could get him back home, safe, and sound, and in one piece.

“Oh,” Jared said, kneeling down and tying the laces on his Converse.

Jared’s shorts rode up slightly, with his one knee bent, and Jensen noticed a bruise on his right thigh that looked strange somehow. It was big, and dark, but yellowing around the edges already. Like it was healing.

He pointed to it, feeling a little freaked out, but not completely sure why.

“Where d-did you get that, Jay?” he asked, finger trembling, mouth going dry.

Jared stood up once more, and frowned down at his own leg like he’d never seen it before.

Then his eyebrows smoothed out, and he smiled a little. “Oh that?” he said, raising his eyebrows again. "I fell.”

He rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue at Jensen like he was being purposefully stupid, just to rile him up.

But he wasn’t though.

Jensen frowned a little, still feeling kind of weird about it, and not sure why, but he had to double check, because something was telling him that that didn’t make any sense.

“Are you sure?” he asked, bending forward slightly to try and get a closer look.

Jared leaned down, and set his hand against it, fingers directly in line with the shape of the thing, and repeated, “I fell, Jen.”

Jensen looked closer at the way Jared’s hand fit into the bruise, turned his head this way and that, and then saw, really _saw_ what he was looking at all of sudden. Dread trickled cold down the back of his throat and settled heavily in his belly, like iron.

It was a hand.

The bruise was in the shape of a large hand.

Jensen fought back nausea fiercely, and forced himself to ask one last question, even though he was sure he wouldn’t get the answer he was looking for.

“Who did this to you?” Jensen asked intently, eyes never straying from Jared’s face.

Jared bit his lip, frowning a little, and then opened his mouth, and let out a loud horn sound.

Wait….huh?

“What?” he asked, slapping one hand against his right ear.

Jared opened his mouth again, frowning uncertainly, and just as Jensen thought he’d let out an actual name, he heard another _hooooooonk_.

“Jared?” he asked. “What did you say?”

What was going on? Why couldn’t Jared talk anymore?

He looked a little angry now, like Jensen was the one not making any sense.

“I said, _Hoooooooooooooonk!!!”_

Jensen jumped, startled awake by that horrible sound, and looked up to see his mom and Josh in the car, idling on the side of the road, at the top of the hill. He was sitting in the swing, his arms wrapped around himself at the chill in the air, and when he straightened to stand up his back felt sore.

He got into the car carefully and took the fleece that Josh handed back to him with a small nod.

It wasn’t until they’d gotten back home and his mom turned off the car and just sat for a minute in the driveway that he even got up the energy to speak.

“I’m sorry” he croaked out, voice barely a whisper in the silent car.

“I know, Jen,” his mom said softly. “C’mon….” she sighed, popping open her door and looking back at him with an almost smile. “Let’s get you warm, huh?”

Jensen nodded tiredly and slowly made his way inside.


	5. So This Is How I'm Slipping Away  {Spring}

# Spring

  
  
JARED

Mr. Jake asked him if he was happy there.

Jared said nothing and dropped to his knees, because he couldn’t lie if his mouth was full. And lately Mr. Jake had been able to tell when he was lying.

It only led to anger, or even worse, guilt, because Mr. Jake had his “good” days and “bad” days, and on the “good” days he got upset at _himself_ if Jared was unhappy. There was crying and he stayed longer, asked for more from Jared then.

On the bad days he might’ve been rougher, but at least he wasn’t pretending Jared wasn’t a prisoner there, that Jared belonged there.

Jared kept himself busy as much as he could, with books, and drawing, and TV, when Mr. Jake wasn’t there. But less and less of his time was spent alone nowadays.

He still wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

He still prayed every night to be found.

He still saw Jensen’s face in his daytime dreams.

&&&

JENSEN

Today was Jensen’s birthday. He was turning thirteen. All he could think was that Jared wasn’t there to see it.

He was getting tired of thinking that way, of always relating the big things, stuff that happened to him, to Jared. According to Eliot, it was normal, but it just ripped open places inside him he’d rather stayed definitively shut.

He _was_ thinking of him less, overall: had gone two whole weeks, at one point, without a mention or more than a very brief thought about his best friend. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

It hurt less, but he’d take the hurt, honestly, if it meant he wouldn’t ever forget Jared.

He knew it wasn’t possible to, entirely, but there was a constant fear in the back of his mind that he’d forget the little things about him, like the way his stupid hair flopped into his face, or his goofy, wide-dimpled smile. Or the way he shuffled his feet when he was excited about something. Already, he couldn’t picture Jared in his mind as clearly as he knew he used to. (What color were his eyes again? Blue-green? Hazel-green?)

He _never_ wanted to forget him, to lose him more than he’d already lost him. Jared was his best friend and he was seriously not prepared to let that go.

It was a week day, his birthday, so he wasn’t really doing anything that special. Having his normal morning routine before school made it easy to slip into his own thoughts, which tended to bounce around a lot these days, but bounced back to Jared a good number of times even before he left the house.

He didn’t eat breakfast, not hungry in the least, but as he passed through the kitchen he noticed neither his mom, nor Josh were home this morning. His mom could have taken a late shift for overtime, but Josh was usually around.

It was weird, but not worth getting too wound up over, and anyway, his mind was being hijacked again, and kept replaying the last words Jared spoke to him over and over like a skipping cassette tape.

Jensen sighed, accepted that today was going to be a rough one, and took a detour in his walking route to avoid his usual meet up spot with Sophie and Danny.

He walked like he was going to his old elementary school, bypassing the old baseball diamond, and Old man Grover’s broken down bungalow, yard filled with cigarette butts and soda cans, and possibly a weed roach or two, if what Josh said was true.

He walked aimlessly, no real place in mind, besides maybe making it to school, eventually.

When he came upon Jared’s house he convinced himself it was by accident.

He stood in front of the homey two story with the pretty wrap around porch and the white picket fence between it and the houses beside it.

The grass was dry and over-grown and the windows were dark and empty. The tire swing hanging from the biggest branch, on the biggest tree in the front yard was the only sign that a family had ever lived here. That there were entire histories in the creaky floorboards, growth measured in pencil markings on the basement wall, memories that Jensen figured the Padaleckis had run away from.

Jensen couldn’t blame them.

He took a deep breath, made a decision, and kept walking.

When he finally made it to his locker, about three minutes before the bell for second period rang, he saw it decorated with streamers and multiple multi-colored balloons. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” an index card screamed below his lock, and he grinned in spite of himself.

Inside, in the little square cubby part, there was a cupcake and two cards. One from Danny and one from Sophia. As he read through the cards and bit into his over-sweet cupcake, he realized maybe the day wouldn’t be _entirely_ unbearable.

He went home after school to find balloons and ice-cream cake in the kitchen. His mom took the evening shift off, and Josh had gone out early to get the balloons made.

Jensen blew out his candles very carefully and had to blink way faster than normal to keep tears from his eyes.

&&&

JARED

Jared was tired. So, so tired.

It was harder, now, to tell the good days from the bad days. He didn’t wake in the middle of the night shivering anymore, so he slept for longer amounts of time. He was surer of days and nights passing now, able to see the light of the moon or sun through cracks in the wooden roof of the shed.

But it didn’t do him much good counting the days any longer. He only knew he’d been here for too many.

Too many days, too many weeks, too many months…

Had it been a year yet? Two?

How was he to know, when every day was like the last. Or every other, maybe every two. When all he did was sleep and watch TV, when he could get up the energy. Bathe and eat, when he was brought food.

He couldn’t feel hunger that much anymore. He was never hungry. Or maybe he was always hungry. He couldn’t really tell.

When Mr. Jake came it was easier now. Easier to slip away into his own mind; thoughts of his family, and mama’s home cooking. Thoughts of Jensen’s smile, and laughing eyes, and stupid dares. School, and his friends, and baseball, and everything that he wished he could have again.

Jared knew Mr. Jake didn’t like it. It just made him angry when he didn’t respond. Didn’t act like he liked it, or at least was okay with it. He didn’t want Jared to disappear when he was supposed to be making him feel good.

Well too _freaking_ bad for him. Because Jared never wanted any of this.

It was all he could do now, all he knew how to do now….to go somewhere else…to slip away.

Everything was so much simpler when he just…..let go.

&&&

JENSEN

“Okay, you move in just a little closer, Jen,” his mom demanded, waving her hand behind her plastic, Polaroid camera impatiently.

“Ma, I’m not even _dressed_.”

“It doesn’t matter. We need to have these pictures for keepsakes and you’re here so you have to be in them! Josh, pull Amanda in just a little tighter.”

“Any tighter and I’ll crush her spine, Mom.”

“Snark not necessary!”

“I-It’s okay Josh, your Mom is right,” Josh’s date said, with a slightly teasing smile.

“You should have great photos of this. You only get one Prom.”

Jensen was about to point out that, no actually you get two, and that some people got four if they were invited to other people’s, so this wasn’t really that important, when Danny and Sophie shuffled through the front door with grocery bags and video games in hand.

“I brought the game console, Jenny boy! I’m assuming we’re playing in the living room!” Sophie yelled, knocking her clunky combat boots against the coffee table in an effort to maneuver her way toward the TV.

“Yeah, that’s fine!” Jensen yelled back, as Danny brought bowls from the kitchen and his Mom stepped around her to line back up and get a better shot.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I brought caramel, butter, and kettle corn. I know you only kinda like the kettle kind, but they didn’t have the three pack with the cheese, so-”

“It’s cool, Danny,” Jensen said, shooting her a smile, and moving out of the way so she could slip by.

His mom growled.

Josh and Amanda started giggling when he put a piece of her hair behind her ear, and when Jensen made a face behind her head, Josh rolled his eyes.

“Seriously??!?!? I just want _one_ picture, boys.”

“Alright, Mom.”

“Okay, chill.”

Josh and Jensen responded simultaneously and everyone was perfectly still for the second it took for Donna to take the picture.

There was a collective sigh of relief when she put the camera down.

“Okay I think that’s everyone. I got a few with you, one of Jen, and good couple of you by yourselves.”

She picked up the keys, and her jacket off of a kitchen chair, before heading towards the door.

“Alright, you crazy kids, let’s go. Jen, there’s money for pizza on the counter, and soda in the fridge. I get off shift around 11, and I expect it to be spotless in here when I get back.”

She pointed and squinted at him, just to make sure he got the point, and Jensen smiled wide and oh so charmingly.

“Mom…..have I ever left it any other way?”

“Hah!” Donna barked out as she shuffled Josh and Amanda out the door. “That’s a good one. Keep it safe and keep it PG,” she said, shooting a look at Danny.

“Awwww, _mom_ , come on!” Jensen whined, because no, seriously, she couldn’t just say stuff like that. Ew.

His mom just rolled her eyes. “Have fun!” she said, slamming the door behind her.

Jensen shook his head and ran a rough hand through his hair before plopping down on the sofa beside Danny. He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, keeping the blush off of his face by force of will alone.

This thing with them was new.

One day he’d walked to his locker, and Danny had given him some long, proper speech, about feelings, and signs, and being there for each other. And at the end she’d kissed his cheek.

Then Jensen had gone to Sophia and asked her what the hell it was about, and she’d told him it was that girl stuff again, but basically Danny _like_ liked him, and had been freaking out about it since, like….forever, and did he maybe want to like, kiss her cheek, and hold her hand every once in a while so she’d stop bitching?

Jensen had laughed and figured it couldn’t hurt to have a girlfriend if it made them okay again, and meant he didn’t have to sit alone at lunch, or deal with Danny’s weird moods anymore.

So here they were.

Jensen turned toward the bags of popcorn and other snacks Danny was arranging on the coffee table and raised an eyebrow.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m arranging them by color, ingredient, and caloric value,” Danny said casually, sticking her tongue out slightly through her teeth.

“You are _so_ weird,” Jensen said grinning, and Sophia chuckled under her breath.

“Shut up,” Danny said, rolling her eyes. “Like you’re not a freak too. I know you have that thing about red shirts, and walking in front of people.”

Jensen felt his shoulders tense, and his fingers curled into his palms to make fists without his permission.

He took a deep breath, grinding his teeth together a little, and he counted back from ten in his head. The quicksilver flash of anger in his gut wasn’t for her.

When he looked down at Sophia she shrugged like _“What are you going to do?”_

When he looked over at Danny she was looking right back at him, her hand hanging in the air over the small pile of green Mike and Ike’s.

She had a soft, sad look on her face.

“It’ll be a year in two months, Jensen. My Aunt will still be dying and Jared will still be missing.”

Jensen’s breath hitched slightly, but when Danny moved her hand to his and uncurled his fingers one by one, he let her.

And when she tried to lace her fingers through his, he let her.

When she squeezed, he squeezed back, because he was drowning and she was his life raft.

“We do what we have to, remember? Until we don’t have to anymore.”

Jensen nodded. It was something he’d heard repeatedly in sessions. He bit his lip and shot Danny a guilty look.

“Sorry about the-”

“No need,” she said, cutting him off. “I’m sorry too.”

“Yeah, we’re all sorry. Especially this guy,” Sophia said, flicking her controller and attacking an ugly looking Martian from behind.

With a handful of red M and M’s and his ankle crossed over Danny’s, Jensen settled back into the couch to watch Sophia kill the alien Queen.

&&&

JARED

Jared’s day to day had become a blur. Something without shape and meaning. He drifted along in a mindless, timeless haze of passing events. He was almost never awake anymore, or at least it felt like that.

Night, Day, light, dark, in and out of somewhere _not there, never_ there. And Mr. Jake had stopped trying to get him to stay.

……………………………………………………………

It was days, months, years, _lifetimes_ later that Jared heard,

_moving_

and

_travelling_

and

_miss you,_

_my sweet_ _boy_

Lifetimes later that he realized he was getting _out_ of the shed, and his heart kick-started in his chest, sang with a hope he hadn’t felt for longer than he could remember.

He took his first full breath since he’d lost _everything_ and it was deep and painful, filling his lungs to bursting.

He relished in the burn of it, in how much he could _feel_.

His imagination exploded into technicolor focus, clear and over-bright reality penetrating the dark, formless spaces in the back of his mind.

Freedom tasted sharp and coppery on the tip of his tongue.

He knew he’d only get one chance.

And he was ready to run.


	6. So This Is How I'm Slipping Away  Postlude

# Postlude

  
  
[](http://redrum669.livejournal.com/21728.html)  
(if you cannot read here by zooming, please click the image and enlarge the picture at [](http://redrum669.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://redrum669.livejournal.com/)**redrum669** 's journal)

JENSEN

Jensen wanted to know what happened to him, of course he did. Jared had been gone for five years, presumed dead, or at least never to be found again. There was a pattern to these kinds of cases, these kinds of crimes. Jensen had read about it. Pedophiles, especially the notoriously violent kind, almost always killed their captives, and the kids _never_ escaped. Nearly never. The fact that Jared was here, sitting on Jensen’s living-room couch, mug of tea in hand was…well, frankly, it was a miracle.

But Jensen could bide his time. He could wait, and just be happy that Jared was here at all. Despite the anger that had been coiling and festering in his gut for five years, (five, long, hellish years) Jensen could, and _would_ , wait for the truth, until his friend was ready. He owed Jared that much and more.

“Are you going to sit?” Jared asked suddenly.

So suddenly that Jensen jumped slightly. He hadn’t said much since the police had brought him in, had said even less after going home with Jerry and Megan, and Jensen wasn’t even sure how aware he was of his surroundings yet. It didn’t startle him, as much as surprise him.

Jared’s facial expression didn’t change at all from the neutral blank stare he’d had nearly all day, but he did shoot Jensen a look out of the corner of his eye as if he was waiting for a response.

“Um…” Jensen wasn’t sure whether it’d be best to sit or not, honestly.

“Your fidgeting is… making me…twitchy.” His voice was soft, low; a raspy whisper that sounded like it was being forced out between clenched teeth.

“Oh…okay.”

Jensen sat at the far end of the sofa very carefully, eyes forward and staring at the blank television so he didn’t have to look at Jared.

So he didn’t have to see how broken he was. His blank stare spoke of walls of apathy built to keep in a heaving mass of hurt. Jensen was sure it had to be tearing him apart. He knew better than anyone how much easier it was to pretend that you were okay than to show people even a piece of yourself, just a glimpse of a shard of your shattered soul, and have them chew it into splinters and spit it back in your face. Better to not be vulnerable in the first place than to be made vulnerable by someone else.

Of course, Jared _had_ been made vulnerable, in more ways than one, over and over and over again, so his walls had to be pretty damn thick.

….Or extremely fragile.

Jensen didn’t really know what to say to him.

He wanted to say “You’ve gotten tall. Still shorter than me, maybe, but you’re taller than a lot of guys I know, and considering, well…everything, that’s kind of unbelievable”.

He wanted to say “I missed you. I missed you so goddamned much that I couldn’t even breathe most days”.

He _wanted_ to say “You’re still so fucking beautiful that I don’t know what to do with myself”, hollow eyed, scarred, and all, and “Even though you probably won’t believe me, I love you now just as much as I loved you then”, or even,

“You won’t be broken forever. I promise. I promise I’ll fix you.”

But nothing came out of his mouth when he opened it, so he bit his lip instead.

When his mother came in from her late shift in the IC unit, that’s how she found them: awkward and stiff, facing opposite directions on the couch with an ocean of silence and sorrow between them.

Jared didn’t eat much at all at dinner, and he didn’t step foot in the Josh’s old room, instead curling up in a ball, wiry arms around his bony knees, at the end of the couch.

Jensen guessed they were lucky he wasn’t on the floor still, as Jerry had said countless times he’d woken up to Jared tucked into one dark corner or another.

Hopefully he’d sleep. Through the night, preferably, but a couple of hours straight would be more than what Jensen expected. At all is what he dared to hope for.

Hope.

Despite all that had happened and all that he was sure was to come, he couldn’t help the spread of it, warm and wild, digging its needy, greedy claws into his chest and not letting go.

Jared was here.

He was broken, and hurting but he was _alive_ and that was more, way more than Jensen had ever had reason to think possible.

That was enough.

That was everything.  


**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So, I know this isn't everyone's cup of tea, but my god, this story, or more truthfully, these characters, and the emotions of the scenario have been stuck, looping in my brain, for at least two-three years. It's crazy to think about finally being done with at least one leg of the journey. The most difficult part, I think, was beginning and ending. I couldn't have done either without a whole hell of a lot of help from a handful of unbelievable people!!! I want to thank my friend Joanna, who read the start of this and kicked me in the ass every time I wanted to give up because it was just too damn sad. My cousin Ashley, who, essentially did the same when Jo couldn't be there. ;) I want to thank wendy and thehighwaywoman of course, without whom this posting would not even be possible. And holy shit, I seriously couldn't have done this without my beta, shadowsong26. Like, she cleaned my shit up so much, it's not even funny. THANK YOU ELEANOR. I hope that this story strikes a chord with someone. It is not a happy story, but I do think it is a hopeful story. Rather, it shows the beginnings of hope. That's really the heart of what this is about.


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